Star Wars Rebels Shorts
by LittleSnaketail
Summary: A highly inconsistent and stupid collection of one- or two-shots. Contains high levels of OOC, fourth-wall breaking and swearing. Rated T for the swears. (There are some grammatical errors and typos that are too old to be fixed and I will forever be tormented)
1. Plot Shield

Background: Season 1 finale.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels nor any of the characters mentioned here.

* * *

The Grand Inquisitor smiled with triumph. After all the trouble he had gone through chasing after those two particular Rebels, he had finally cornered them when they were weak, where they could not run away.  
He swung his lightsaber at the Jedi and his Padawan with all his might.  
But instead of screams, or even a blue blade of energy to counter his red one, a resounding CLANG followed the threatening sizzle.  
He looked again, confused.

There they were, smug grins on their faces, lurking behind a shiny metal board stamped with the Disney logo and the words 'PLOT SHIELD' written on top.  
"Disney's got our back, you can't kill us, sucker," Ezra teased.

The Inquisitor stomped his feet and snarled in anger.  
"Fuck you!" He screamed.  
Ezra started to wail upon being cursed at.  
As Kanan tried to calm him down while glaring at the Inquisitor, Mickey Mouse appeared out of nowhere and said "That's it, you're fired."  
Mickey handed him a paper upon which the words  
"Death Sentence to: Grand Inquisitor  
Time: Season One Finale  
Excuse: Upsetting the protagonist"  
were written.

The Inquisitor just glared, lost for words.  
After a moment, he decided he couldn't take it any longer.  
"THAT'S IT! FUCK YOU ALL! I QUIT!"  
And he jumped off from a very convenient, very high rail-less bridgeway that they all happened to be standing on.

Ezra and Kanan watched him fall into the nothingness (because it wasn't rendered yet).  
"I thought I was supposed to kill him," Kanan murmured sluggishly.  
"That's okay," Mickey replied. "We'll just use some cleverly edited clips. He was gonna be killed off one way or the other, because he isn't in the original trilogy."  
They all agreed on that and walked home.


	2. Plot Shield 2

Background: Season 1, Episode 11 (Call to Action)

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels nor any of the characters mentioned here.

* * *

"Fire at them!"  
Commandant Aresko yelled as they chased the Rebels on speeder bikes.  
A volley of shots rained down from behind and above the enemy as TIE fighters joined the chase.  
But as the smoke cleared away, it became clear that they were as intact as ever.  
"I said fire!" Aresko screamed as another storm of blaster shots and whatnot swept over the enemy, but they still didn't have a single scratch on them.

The commandant groaned.  
He knew this was a lost cause; the double shields provided by Disney were too strong to penetrate.  
He had to look enthusiastic in the chase battle scene, but now, well, he just decided to drop it.

"Fire, at random, crash into a wall or whatever," he moaned in defeat as he sank back in his seat inside the hover-tank while facepalming.  
Behind him, the cameraman from Disney yelled "CUT!" from the cargo hold, poking his head out of the rear window so the rest of the filming crew could hear.  
Aresko just groaned miserably.

This was going to be a terrible day.


	3. Death Sentence Day

Background: Right before Empire Day.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars Rebels nor any of the characters mentioned here.

This one ended up a bit more serious(?) than intended, and certainly a lot longer than other chapters. Hope you still get a laugh or two out of it.

* * *

It was a queer sight.  
In a clean, bright, otherwise empty corridor, sat more than a dozen characters, protagonist, antagonist and neutral/extra alike, upon a row of chairs lined up against a wall.  
Opposite them was a white metal door stamped with the Disney logo.  
The air was tense.  
It was not becase of the fact that the Grand Inquisitor sat right beside Zeb, nor the fact that Sabine and Grand Moff Tarkin were glaring daggers at each other while a stormtrooper was stuck uncomfortably alone in the middle.

It was the fact that it was Unemployment-According-To-Plot Day, or at least that's what Mickey called it.  
The characters preferred calling it Death Sentence Day.  
It was a day when Mickey would tell everyone when they would "move the plot along" by dying, with an occasional brief preview of their future.  
Almost everyone dreaded this day.  
Except, of course, the characters protected by the Original Trilogy Shield, the Plot Shield or the Main Character Shield.

They were just here to see others suffer, Minister Maketh Tua thought miserably as she sat tensely beside a bored Hera.  
"Kanan and Ezra!" Mickey's voice called out as the door opened and Chopper slid out happily, waving a piece of paper in the air.  
So the droid had gotten off. How come they so generously spared the circuits of a droid but not the lives of a dozen stormtroopers, wondered Tua.

Earlier on, Mickey had called in on a bunch of stormtroopers only to tell them their job was to drop dead throughout the very next episode. She had watched those soldiers leave the exact same door she was facing now, shoulders slumped, an occasional sigh escaping a helmet or two.  
She pitied them, but for now she feared for her own life.  
Meanwhile, the two people mentioned promptly left their seats.

Ezra entered Mickey's shiny office with Kanan. It was their first time, but he was confident because he was the main character and Disney never kills off the main character.  
Mickey sat behind a clean desk, a calendar and a small pile of merchandise pushed to one side, looking up from a list of what Ezra presumed was the characters' names.  
He wordlessly handed each of them a paper.  
On Ezra's, the words

"Name: Ezra Bridger

Occupation: Main Protagonist

Unemployment date: Undecided"  
were printed out in large neat black letters.  
Ezra grinned at Kanan as they exited the office. He grinned back.  
His death day had been listed as Undecided, too.  
This meant they could relax for the next couple of seasons.  
But who cared, anyway, when you had the trusty Plot Shield and the Main Character Shield at your back.  
Ezra had a hard time suppressing his glee when Imperial officers Aresko and Grint were called to the office, looking beaten already.

Darth Vader, Grand Moff Tarkin and Emperor Palpatine filed out of the door.  
Each had received the same death-date description: "Undecided, though you're only alive because you're in the Original Trilogy and we'd love to kill you off otherwise."  
Tarkin grimaced.  
So the OT Shields had their back.

It didn't comfort him though, nor did it comfort the other two. They all knew their fates.  
He would die in Episode IV in a Death Star explosion because of some stupid exhaust port.  
Personally, Tarkin wanted to beat the shit out of whoever made the plans of the superweapon, but unfortunately it was impossible because such a character did not exist.  
The Emperor would be killed by Vader himself, which made their relationship very awkward whenever they were offscreen.  
Even now, Palpatine was throwing Vader a don't-you-gloat-I-know-you-die-only-five-minutes-after-you-throw-me-down-that-hole look.  
Vader felt his master's glare burning against the back of his neck, but he knew he would turn good in the end and spend at least a couple of minutes wih his son without fighting, and that was the only thing he looked forward to, really.  
He just hoped Force Lighting wouldn't hurt too much.

"Maketh Tua and Grand Inquisitor!" Mickey called out.  
Tua rose from her seat, trembling.  
Her face was paler than usual, either from the reflected lights of the bright white corridor or from her fear. Or both.  
A few seats away, the Inquisitor rose from his seat as well. His face was resigned, but in a way that anticipated death rather than life.  
Slowly they walked towards the door that Tarkin had left open, each sharing the same thought: 'I have a bad feeling about this.'  
30 seconds later, Tua looked at the Inquisitor, horrified. He looked back with a dark expression that clearly said "Fuck... we're screwed."

Mickey watched the two antagonists glance at their papers, exchange negative looks, then look at the paper again.  
The Inquisitor's Unemployment date was Season One Finale; Minister Tua's, Season Two Premiere.  
They probably thought the Rebels were gonna kill them one after the other.  
He considered telling them that the Inquisitor's death would be more of a suicide while the Minister would be betrayed by the Empire she held so dear, but he couldn't risk the spread of spoilers. Besides, Minister Tua looked terrified enough already; it wouldn't be efficient if she passed out when there was another episode to film this afternoon.

So he dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and looked down at his list.

Next up: Agent Kallus.

Now this would be interesting.


	4. Ever So Slowly

(Inspired by a KissCartoon comment)

Background: Season 2, Episode 3  
I do not own Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

* * *

Agent Kallus was not exactly having a great time.  
He and some other soldiers were chasing THOSE Rebels on three AT-ATs.  
In full uniform.  
On some stifling desert planet.  
The walker didn't even have A/C.  
The heat was really starting to get to Agent Kallus.  
That and the fact that the vehicle the Rebels were on had a grotesque resemblance to Howl's Moving Castle, excuse the giant caterpillar thingy hanging on one side.

Not that Disney cared about any of this.  
Right now he had to catch - or at least try to look like catching - those assholes crouching under the Main Character and Plot Shields.  
"Full speed ahead!" he ordered to his pilots.  
Both pilots immediately obliged, pushing up a lever each as far as possible.

The speedometer's needle moved from 4 Miles per Hour to 5 Miles per Hour.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," said one pilot to another.  
"I know, we look like we're chasing a slow-ass beetle in an even slower turtle," replied his partner.  
Agent Kallus longed to tell them off, but he just couldn't find a way to contradict those statements.  
So he just resorted to banging his head repeatedly against the wall of the cockpit.

Somewhere, Mickey was laughing...


	5. The Fandom

**dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN**

Background: Season Finale

I do not own Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

* * *

The Inquisitor was hanging from a conveniently high and rail-less bridge, with Kanan looking down at him, two blue lightsabers blazing, one in each hand.  
He swore he had seen something like this situation in Episode I...  
He heard an explosion as his own lightsabers made contact with whatever was down there. Oh great.  
Time to be a jerk one last time.

"You have no idea what you've unleashed here today. There are some things far more frightening than death." he told Kanan.  
He didn't know what exactly the first part meant either, but cryptic messages always messed with the minds of Jedi.  
"What do you mean by 'things far more frightening than death'?" the Jedi inquired.  
"The fandom, dude, they're fucked up,"  
The Inquisitor whispered, looking at Kanan dead in the eyes before letting go and falling to his doom.

But even as he fell he couldn't stop smiling a little; he knew the Jedi would be sure to look it up now that he has heard of it.  
Even the Disney shields couldn't protect Kanan from the Internet; this way he'd be able to screw up that Jedi one last time, perhaps in the most effective way yet.

A few days later, terrified screams escaped Kanan's quarters as the Grand Inquisitor's death wish came true.


	6. The Mask Awakens

Background: Right after Season 2 Episode 5  
I don't own Star Wars, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

Also, this probably isn't how the Disney staff reviewed the movie, but what do I know? I never worked at Disney. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

* * *

The characters were at a midnight showing of The Force Awakens. Disney had booked a theater for the Rebels cast and staff members.  
They had gotten to the part where it turned out that Kylo Ren's mask had been completely pointless compared to Vader's.

Ezra suddenly thought of something.  
"Hey," he leaned over and whispered in the Seventh Sister's ear.  
She was sitting in the row right in front of Ezra's.  
"What?" she retorted irritably.  
"If you were gonna reveal your face in the exact same episode, what was the point of YOUR mask?"  
"To look pretty, duh," her strange chorus of a voice dripped with sarcasm.  
"Really? I thought it looked kinda plain..."  
Ezra was not very bright.  
"No, to protect my face, dumbass," she snarled.  
"Now get out of the corner of my eyes before I punch you in the chin."  
"Okay, okay, jeez, calm down a little, I don't bite..."

Ezra continued muttering under his breath as he sank back in his seat.  
Beside him, Kanan threw his face into his hands. He had overheard the whole conversation. He let out a small exasperated sigh that no one heard.  
His apprentice was so stupid sometimes.

As he exited the theater after an hour, several questions formed in Ezra's mind, such as:  
Would he look cooler if he wore a mask too?  
Would the fact that Disney was her boss really stop the Seventh Sister from strangling him if he talked to her again?  
Why was she so pissed, anyway?  
And why does Darth Vader look so bothered?

But then, Ezra had been talking to Sabine when the burnt-up Vader mask appeared onscreen. He had no idea how much one movie clip could make a Sith Lord uncomfortable.


	7. Bloopers

Background: Season 1, Episode 5  
I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters, and I definitely don't own Mickey Mouse, so please don't sue me Disney.

Also, IMPORTANT: I specify the background timeline (episode) according to the Star Wars Rebels Wikia page( wiki/Star_Wars_Rebels#Episodes). To some people, this episode may be known as Episode 3.

* * *

Take #1  
As the illusion of Luminara Unduli faded away, one scared cameraman was left with Kanan and Ezra in the dark cell.  
Then, the doors slid open, the Inquisitor played his part... or, was playing his part well until-  
"I am the Inquisitor," he said. "Welc-"  
Unfortunately, he tripped on the small staircase before finishing his sentence.  
"Cut!" Mickey yelled.

Take #2  
The Inquisitor walked down the small staircase without tripping this time.  
"I am-" "YATCHOUFSSCH"  
Everyone glared at Ezra.  
"Sorry," he mumbled apologetically, "I don't usually sneeze like that..."  
"Cut!" Mickey squeaked.

Take #3  
"I am the welcome," the Inquisitor said.  
"Inquisitor."  
It took a couple of seconds before he - and everyone else in the vicinity - realized what he had done wrong.  
Everyone burst into laughter while the Inquisitor sulked.  
"Cut!" Came the mousy squeak once more.

 _Hours passed..._

Take #26  
More than 20 takes and not one success.  
The cameramen were getting tired.  
The characters each swore to themselves that they would get it right this time.  
"I am th-"  
There was a loud THUD as a staff member, intent on delivering some documents, pushed past the Grand Inquisitor, causing him to fall down the staircase again.  
Ezra and Kanan exchanged a split second's glance - then they both ran for it before the Inquisitor got up.  
However, their plan didn't work.  
"STOP!" Mickey screamed. "CUT!"  
The small mascot stormed into the scenes.  
"Uh-oh," was all Ezra could say.  
The Inquisitor rose from the floor, rubbing his knees where they had made such gracious contact with the floor - just in time to witness Mickey lose his temper.  
"YOU DON'T RUN BEFORE HIS LINE IS OVER!"  
Mickey continued screaming at the top of his squeaky mouse voice,  
"THIS IS NOT A WAR, IT'S A SHOW AND IN A SHOW, MAIN CHARACTERS LIKE YOU HAVE TO LET THE PLOT SHIELD TAKE FULL EFFECT, NOT RUN AWAY AT THE FIRST CHANCE YOU GET! STOP BEING A SMARTIE! AND YOU," here he rounded on the Inquisitor, "IF YOU FALL ONE MORE TIME I WILL KILL YOU OFF IN THE VERY NEXT EPISODE!"  
"But it wasn't me-"  
"NO BUTS, IFS OR ANDS, AND THAT GOES FOR ALL OF YOU! UNDERSTAND?!"  
Too surprised to speak, everyone just nodded.  
Mickey gave one last indignant _Humph_ and stormed off.  
Ezra gaped.  
"Never thought about it before, but that guy could make a great Sith," Kanan commented dryly.  
The Inquisitor said nothing. In fact, he couldn't really think about anything because all the screaming had left his sensitive Pau'an ears throbbing in pain.

"So... Take 27?" piped up a timid cameraman to collective groans.


	8. The Grand Scheme

Background: A little after the Season 2 premiere

I do not own Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters. Also, this one has a slightly different sense of humor from my other shorts. You'll have to read it through the end.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Sabine?" Zeb growled.  
The Ghost crew members were all sitting around a table, discussing a self-proclaimed 'brilliant plan' that Sabine came up with a little help from Chopper.  
"Yes, I'm sure, and Chopper and Ezra here agree as well," Sabine shot back. They had covered this a dozen times already.  
"I think it's a gorgeous plan," Ezra piped up.  
"Oh, suck up," grumbled Zeb.  
"Am not!"  
"Are too!"  
"Will you two stop bickering this instant!" Hera cut in, and they both subsided at once into exchanging glares of half mischief and half malice.  
"Now then," Hera continued briskly, "I, for one, think it's quite the plan that Sabine here came up with. But," her voices changed to a more serious tone, "it's also possibly the riskiest one we've ever had."  
"Not only that," Kanan spoke up, "But also it's gonna put the whole fleet in danger if we mess it up. For the Maker's sake, it involves that Sith Lord! Ezra and I barely survived our first encounter!"  
"But you survived," Sabine grinned. "It's not like you have to fight him again; we only need you to provide a distraction."  
"'We'? Who's 'we' here?"  
Chopper made a series of bleeps and toots.  
"Yeah, I'm in the 'we' for sure," replied Ezra, apparently having understood what the droid had said.  
The droid replied back in an affirmative blip.  
"I'm in," Zeb said gruffly.  
"Well, that's... ezra chopper zeb sabine... Four out of six. Count me in, that's five. Kanan, what do you say? We're still listening." said Hera, performing a quick headcount.  
"I... I'm really not sure about this, I've met the Sith before and it wasn't a pleasant experience... " Here Kanan couldn't help feeling the lightsaber burn on his right shoulder.  
"But on the other hand, you guys all seem so certain about it, and besides, there's no way I'm letting my apprentice go alone on such a dangerous mission like that."  
"Then it's decided!" Sabine cried happily, and the group was dismissed to go back to miscellaneous duties at hand.

"Trust me Kanan, Sabine explained all the details to me. And I assure you, if we work together nothing's going to go wrong."  
Hera told him as she brushed past him on her way to the cockpit.  
"Yeah..." he muttered, half to himself. Hera's words were certainly comforting, but only so much.  
For one thing, there had been identical mischievious glints in the eyes of Sabine, Ezra and Zeb, possibly even Chopper's photoreceptors. Those glints lingered in his mind, and he couldn't shake off the bad feeling that they gave him. What were they up to now?  
Surely they wouldn't try something foolish against a powerful Sith Lord?  
Or... would they?

A week later, Kanan found himself and Ezra fleeing for dear life on stolen speeders with Darth Vader hot on their tails. The plan was in full swing.  
"Specter 6 to Ghost, initiate Phase 3!" Ezra yelled into the comm as they swerved around a corner.  
"Ghost to Specter 6, initiating Phase 3!" Hera's voice replied.  
Back in the ship, Hera repeated the order to Zeb and Sabine.  
"Ready to blow stuff up?" Sabine grinned.  
Zeb grinned back.  
"Alright, the explosives are all in place..."  
Kanan and Ezra's speeders came into view.  
"Aaand..."  
Darth Vader's speeder appeared shortly after.  
"NOW!"  
Sabine pressed a button on a remote control device, setting off quite a few detonators buried right under the ground - and right under Vader's speeder. There was a BOOM and bits of metal flew everywhere as the transport was torn to shreds and Vader force jumped out of harm's way just in time.  
"Ghost to Specter 1 and Specter 6, initializing Phase 4!" Hera called into the comm.  
"Got it!" was all Ezra said as he and Kanan leapt off their vehicles, preparing for the most dangerous phase in the plan - battling Vader and holding on long enough.

"Got the device ready, Chop?"  
The droid tootled merrily as he waved a small rectangular device around.  
Two blue lightsabers and one red lightsaber buzzed into life as the dust from the explosion began to clear.  
"Let's hurry!" Hera snatched the device from the droid's pincers and started to tap various points on its control panel furiously.  
"Hera, hurry up!" Ezra shouted into the comm.  
Zeb could see the full battle now that the dust had cleared, and they clearly weren't having a great time.  
"Almost- done-" Hera groaned through gritted teeth as she now mashed away on the device's buttons.  
Then, after a few seconds' tension and baited breath-

The little light on the top right corner of the device turned from yellow to green.

"Yes!" Sabine punched the air.  
"It's finally done now!" she yelled into the comm. "Now come up here before you lose a hand!"  
Hera ran as fast as she could to the cockpit so that they could pick up the two Jedi.  
"Was planning to!" Kanan replied before Ezra could, and grabbing Ezra's arm, used the Force to jump onto the Ghost just in time.  
Vader tried to pursue them, but the Ghost pulled up skywards way too fast and left Vader to wait for another chance while pondering what that little 'attack' was all about.

Kanan and Ezra tumbled onto the floor of the Ghost, exhausted.  
"Did you do it?" Kanan panted. "Done it nice and well," said Hera, holding up the rectangular thing. It was a remote hacking device.

"Totally worth it," Kanan chuckled as he rolled over on the floor of the Ghost with Ezra. He had received several lightsaber grazes, though luckily they had gotten away before any serious injuries could be delivered.  
The same went for Ezra. "I wish we could see his face when he realizes what we've done," he panted, still gasping for breath. A chunk of his hair had been singed away.  
Then, imagining Vader's reaction when he did find out what kind of a predicament these rebels have so kindly bestowed upon him, the whole team collapsed in a fit of laughter.  
Chopper tried to act indignant as the piloting of the vessel was automatically handed over to him, but even he couldn't suppress a few amused toots.

Meanwhile, Vader stepped from his shuttle aboard the Stardestroyer Executor with a group of officers awaiting his arrival at the docking bay as usual.  
Everything went according to formality until he walked down the ramp of his shuttle...

and the Benny Hill theme started playing instead of the Imperial March.

"What?" Vader was momentarily confused by the dignified situation turned comical, then realization dawned upon him.  
"Blasted rebel scum," Vader growled under his breath as all the officers looked fit to burst from restraining their laughter.  
He quickly pushed a button on his chest to stop the unfitting music, but to his dismay, it did not work.

He had to fix this. The Emperor could wait a few minutes for that report.  
He made his way straight to his meditation chamber, cursing all the way... and the lighthearted sax tune ringing merrily in his wake.

* * *

(Inspired by a YouTube comment saying that the contraption on Vader's chest was a music player that played his theme)

If the text wasn't funny enough, here's what to do:

1\. Imagine Vader striding along in all his glory.

2\. Speed that up.

3\. Replace the background music with the Benny Hill Theme.


	9. Impromptu Script

Background: Season 1 finale

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Mickey Mouse, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

* * *

The Inquisitor was hanging from the bridge as usual in a neverending sense of deja vu while Kanan looked down at him with a lightsaber in each hand.  
"Good," said Mickey, cheerfully walking over and handing Kanan a blank script page.  
"Now, some audiences might think it's a bit like that one scene in Episode 1. You gotta prove it wrong Kanan, say something creative!"  
Kanan stared blankly at his script.  
"Um," he said slowly, "this never happened to me before... Do I make it up or something?"  
"Exactly!" Mickey yelled, grinning broadly and causing Kanan to take a small step back.  
"Okay..." he thought hard.

"Give up Inquisitor, I have the high ground!"  
"No, try again; that's from Episode 3!"  
"Oh."

"You underestimate my power!"  
"No, no, that's also from Episode 3 and it's not even what the good guy says!"  
"Uh oh."

"You don't know the power of the light side."  
"You ripped off Darth Vader..."  
"Did I?"  
Mickey sighed. "Try again."

After around a dozen of Kanan's copycat lines, Mickey had finally had enough.  
"Look," scowling, he told Kanan, "I think it's best if you just stay silent. Let's take another shot. Don't say anything, okay?"  
"Oookayy..."  
Kanan wasn't sure if this was good or bad for him.

"Are you guys done yet? My arms are hurting like hell! Can I come up there?"  
The Inquisitor yelled from below. He had been hanging there this entire time.  
"No!" Mickey shot back. He was kinda mean towards antagonists. "This last shot and you fall!"

The Inquisitor sent him a death glare that went unnoticed by Mickey as he briskly patrolled the set, ordering around crew members to prepare for another shot.


	10. Conference - Part 1

Dedicated to cassturn93, who gave me the idea for this chapter.  
It just got longer and longer as I wrote, so I decide to split it into parts 1 and 2.  
(Warning: Part 2 is wayyy longer...)  
Thank you Disney Syndulla, TheYellowLantern, Starlight Moon Midnight, Baifern, cassturn93 and more, for reading, leaving encouraging feedback and being awesome.  
Same goes to you, dear person who's reading this right now!  
Enjoy!

* * *

Background: Between Season 1 finale and Season 2 premiere  
The mindset of OT characters are from the end of Episode V.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Star Wars, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters, and I certainly do not own Mickey Mouse.

* * *

The large conference room in the Disney HQ was bustling with characters - Star Wars characters, to be specific.  
"Stop stepping on my foot!" cried Ezra's voice from somewhere.  
"Don't you dare scream in my ear!" came Tarkin's harsh rebuke from somewhere else.  
"Let go of my cape!" Vader roared from yet another corner of the vast chamber.

"Everyone, please calm down," squeaked Mickey at the top of his voice as he stood on a box perched on the speaker's platform to gain extra attention. A few characters near the platform turned to look, and Mickey repeated this process until the whole room was finally quiet.

Normally, the ordeal would've tired out a person very quickly, but Mickey was as good as new because he was a cartoon character who defied all rules of science.  
"Now then," Mickey cleared his throat and read on cheerfully as he looked at a thick wad of papers in his hands, "First agenda of this meeting: New characters."

At once, the room burst into protests.  
"What new characters?"  
"Our quarters are overflowing as it is!"  
"What blue haired little punk are you gonna drag into the franchise now?!"  
"Hey I heard that!"  
"Shut up Bridger!"  
"Wasn't me!"  
"Shut up Wren!"  
"Oh sure, Mr. Stuck-up-moff-guy!"  
"THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I HATE NEW CHARACTERS!"  
"QUIET!" Mickey screeched. "One question at a time."

Immediately, a concept artist piped up from the back of the room: "What kind of new characters do we need?"  
"Let's see, we need a Mandalorian bounty hunter who will turn out to be Sabine's old friend," Mickey answered.  
Boba Fett snorted audibly.  
"Hello? Nobody gives a fuck about my parents but Sabine gets some brand new 'old' friend?" Ezra complained.  
"There's too many Mandalorians," a stormtrooper said. "Can't Boba Fett do it?"  
Fett grunted. "Like I'd hang around with some graffiti spraying little punk like that..."  
"EXCUSE ME?!"  
"No, it's NOT gonna be Fett, we need characters never seen before," Mickey interrupted, and possibly preventing a Mandalorian fistfight.

"Why do we need 'new' characters?" Luke Skywalker yelled from the back of the room. At that, a great flood of approving noises hindered Mickey from giving any audible answers.  
Finally, Mickey just gave up, glared, picked up a megaphone and yelled into it, "TO PAY YOUR SALARIES."  
"He means we need new merchandise to sell," interpreted a cameraman helpfully to nobody's gratitude.  
However, Mickey's answers did silence everyone.

"Now then," Mickey said, looking around with a satisfied (and somewhat evil) smile, "Who can suggeat a name for this new bounty hunter?"  
"Boba Fett!" a director assistant immediaty yelled from a far corner of the room, only to be ignored.  
"Ketsu Onyo," piped up a Japanese producer from somewhere in the middle of the crowd.  
To his surprise, Mickey cried out, "That's it! Nice and exotic! It's decided; we'll leave the rest to the concept artists!"  
"How can you make a decision so quickly? Shouldn't you at least listen to what the rest of us have to say?" Kanan asked carefully.  
"Shut up Jarrus, I've been doing this for decades and I know what I'm doing," Mickey retorted.  
Kanan scowled but said nothing.  
Meanwhile, the Japanese producer was truly amazed. 'Are you kidding me,' he thought. 'Literally no one noticed I was trolling.'  
But then, unfortunate as it was, no one else in the conference room spoke Japanese and consequently had no idea that 'ketsu' meant 'butt' in the aforementioned language...

Mickey finished a quick talk with the concept artists, and came back up on the platform. "Next agenda: Ahsoka Tano."  
All eyes turned to look at the Togruta warrior, who stood, alarmed, next to a side wall.  
"Why does she have a whole agenda to herself?" A Rebel pilot whispered.  
"No idea," Taskmaster Grint whispered back.  
The silent fight (that took place once they realized who they were talking to) went unnoticed as said Jedi was practically pinned against the wall with incredulous stares.

"Ahsoka Tano is a very important agenda," Mickey squeaked into his megaphone, "because one of the main plots of Season 2 involve her discovering that Darth Vader is Anakin Skywalker."  
The last five words were met with deadly silence.  
"Oops," said Mickey. He shouldn't have written that down.  
And now the storm was coming.


	11. Conference - Part 2

Presenting Part 2 of the 10-Chapters-Celebration-Thingy (sort of, I only just made that up).  
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Wars Rebels, or any of the characters in those franchises, nor do I own Disney or Mickey Mouse.

* * *

"HE WHAT?!"

Ahsoka was the first to screech as a massive uproar overtook the conference chamber - that is, except the Disney staff who knew all future plots, a select few Jedi from the Original Trilogy, Darth Sidious who gave Vader an I-told-you-so look, and Vader himself who looked like he wanted nothing better than to crawl under a table and never come back out.

Leia grabbed the front of Luke's robes and shook him violently.  
"He's your dad isn't he?! That's what you were trying to tell me isn't it?!" she yelled.  
"Uh, yeah," Luke apologized, his voice trembling all the more because Leia kept shaking him by the robes.  
"AndyouandIaresiblings," he blurted out.  
He wondered if he should have kept that sentence in as Leia's facial expressrion turned into a tornado forecast.  
If it had been another time, she might've been way more chill with it, but Mickey's conferences tended to drive everyone crazy.  
'Force help me,' he prayed silently.

Meanwhile, Darth Vader found himself in a similar predicament.  
"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU ANAKIN?!" Ahsoka had his helmet in both hands and was shaking it violently.  
"YOU WERE MY MASTER, MENTOR AND FAMILY! I LOOKED UP TO YOU, RESPECTED YOU, DEPENDED ON YOU EVEN! AND OF ALL THE FORCE USERS IN THE DAMNED GALAXY IT HAD TO BE YOU, YOU HAD TO BECOME A SITH, YOU HAD TO TURN TO THE DARK SIDE, YOU HAD TO MAKE YOURSELF OUR SWORN ENEMY!"  
She continued hollering, crazed expression on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks.  
Ears ringing, Vader sent an S.O.S signal through the Force, but Luke had too many problems of his own at the moment, the Force Ghosts of his former mentors were mysteriously absent, and all the Emperor said was 'That's your problem dude, deal with it.'

Outside, the ghosts of Obiwan Kenobi and Yoda were sitting floating around the corridor, having escaped just in time.  
"I don't know what's going on in there," Obiwan told Yoda, "But I sure am glad I'm not in it. Someone might start blaming us."  
"Quite right you are," Yoda rasped. "Deal with it, the young ones must."  
"You know, I have a deja vu feeling about this," said Obiwan as he remembered the countless times Luke or Anakin had to deal with huge problems on their own for some strange reason.  
"The ways of the Jedi it is," replied Yoda, sharing similar memories.  
And together they floated away, leaving the chaos behind.

Inside the conference room, each character was reacting uniquely to this new fact.  
"AaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH" screamed Ezra because he wanted to take part in the mayhem, even though he had little idea what was going on.  
"Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod" Sabine kept yelling as she, too, had no idea what went wrong but ran around in circles anyway, brandishing her blaster.  
The Inquisitors were swinging their lightsabers everywhere indiscriminately. No one got a severed limb just because this had to be for All Ages.  
Through all the howling, hollering, screaming and bawling, Hera thought she even heard a TIE fighter swoop in and out as she crouched low for safety in a corner, covering her head with both arms.

The noise went on for hours.  
Or perhaps it had been mere minutes.  
Or it might've felt like days to some.  
But it died away at long last, and that's what matters.  
That also was when Mickey finally strolled back into the room again, having sneaked out of the uproar in its initial stages.  
"So, are we done with it?" he asked brightly, stepping back onto the platform, as though nothing had happened.  
No one had any energy left to answer.  
Considering that a yes, he went on: "Alright, third and final-" (ears perked up everywhere at the word _final_ ) "-agenda for this meeting: Employee feedback. Questions, answers and complaints will be exchanged between the two employed groups during this session."

That sounded good enough.  
But Mickey was secretly worried.  
Last time, there had been a major 'aggressive negotiation' between the staff and the characters surrounding the matter of plot shields.  
The characters always found something to complain about.

Sure enough...  
An angry voice, modified and altered due to the helmet it came through.  
"Okay, first things first. How come the Empire's elite troops can't hit a person two feet away?! Had all our harsh training been for nothing?!"  
And many other voices following, as if the first statement had been a gunshot notifying the start of a race.  
"It's a hard time in the academy, man!"  
"Those Rebels didn't even go through all of it!"  
"We are victims too!"  
"That A-team over there doesn't even care if we die or go missing!"  
"It's all for the plot!"  
"Oh, you and your precious plot!"  
"Plot plot plot plot plot, you know what, GO FUCK YOURSELF!"  
"Inquisitor, language!"  
"SHUT UP MINISTER!"  
The complaints, festering into fights.  
"I SAY WE TAKE ALL THEIR SCRIPTS AND BURN THEM!"  
*sound of cheers*  
"NO YOU DON'T!"  
"WE WILL STOP YOU!"  
"YOU AND WHAT ARMY?"  
*sounds of bodies colliding*  
"I THINK I'M BLIND!"  
"I THINK I BROKE MY NOSE!"  
"I'LL MAKE SURE IT'S BROKEN FOR YOU!"  
"SOMEONE GET A FLAMETHROWER!"  
"GAAAAAH!"  
"ASSFFDSGKHAAAAASGGF!"  
*extremely loud bleep from a droid*  
*zapping sound*  
*the whoosh of a flamethrower*  
*many voices chanting*  
"SET IT ON FIRE, BURN THE SCRIPT, SET IT ON FIRE, BURN THE SCRIPT, SET IT ON FIRE, BURN THE SCRIPT, SET IT ON FIRE, BURN THE SCRIPT-"  
" ** _WILL EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP!_** " a furious megaphone-boosted voice rang through the chamber.

Alarmed, everyone turned to Mickey.  
"What, you think I stayed innocent all this time?" he shot back, glaring.  
"Erase that from the records," he added casually.  
Just then, someone's desk finally caught fire - and the fire spread.  
Suddenly, the room was filled with the blaring lights and wailing sounds of emergency sirens and people screaming, swearing and coughing.  
The fire kept growing, characters were swarming out the exits, and the meeting was in no fit state for a proper closing.  
"Meeting's over, everyone's dismissed," squeaked Mickey as he ran out the door with other staff members.

Several days later, a secretary from the management team requested notes of the meeting for recordkeeping purposes, but was confused when the paper he received contained... well, some oddities.

"RECORD OF THIRD REGULAR CONFERENCE FOR STAR WARS REBELS"  
Here the words REGULAR CONFERENCE was crossed out with black marker and replaced with HELL HOLE.

"First agenda: hiring  
New character decided unanimously to be Ketsu Onyo, bounty hunter"  
The word 'unanimously' was also crossed out, and someone had scrawled ' _LIES!_ ' on top of it.

"Second agenda: Ahsoka Tano's involvement in the plot of the second season"  
The content below was charred and burnt up with what suspiciously looked like lightsaber marks.  
Someone had scribbled in red biro, 'Oh, she got involved all right.'

"Third agenda: Feedback  
There were usual comments about certain plot devices.  
No other special feedback in particular was given."  
Here the bottom corners of the paper were torn and shredded as though two people had tugged it back and forth in an attempt to take it from the other.  
The remaining bottom margins were filled with notes of many different handwritings, saying things like ' _You forgot the epic fight!_ ', ' _More like ABRUPTLY STOPPED BY FLAMETHROWER OF JUSTICE_ ', and ' _How could anyone forget the fire?!_ "  
The secretary turned over the paper to find that its blank backside was covered with similar scribbles.  
'How am I gonna report this to my boss?' he thought, miserable and confused.  
But he sighed and set to work anyway...

* * *

(The end)

So that's the end of the two-parter dedicated to you guys! How did you like it?  
I personally feel like I couldn't make it funny enough.  
I had a car accident and although I received no injuries, I still had to go from hospital to hospital getting all sorts of examinations.  
But welp, I tried my best!  
Chapter 12 will be returning to the original format of crack oneshots!


	12. Watch Who You Hire

Background: Season 1, Episode 5, "Return of the Old Masters"  
Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Mickey Mouse, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.  
Additional disclaimer: The first two paragraphs are literary versions of the last few minutes of the episode. I just watched that part and wrote down what I saw and heard.

* * *

Ezra was sitting at the entrance ramp of the Ghost, staring up at the skies of Lothal.  
Kanan walked over to join him.  
"Look, don't bother saying it. I'm letting it off the hook." Ezra said without turning around.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"I know you wanted to dump me on Luminara; just 'cause she's gone doesn't mean you're stuck with me."  
"I don't wanna - _dump_ you," the Jedi said with a sigh, putting a hand on his forehead. He sat down next to Ezra.  
"Look, I just wanted you to have the best teacher..."  
"Well, I don't want the best teacher! I want _you_!"  
Surprised, Kanan turned to him.  
"N-not that you're not the best, I-" he added hurriedly.  
"Ezra," Kanan cut off. "I'm not gonna try to teach you anymore."  
At this, the boy returned to gloomily staring at the plains, dejected.  
"If all I do is try, that means I don't truly believe I can succeed. So from now on, I _will_ teach you."

Ezra turned back to him, hope and surprise in his eyes. Could this be true?  
He let out a small sigh of a laugh.  
"I may fail, you may fail, but there is no try."  
He looked down. After a moment, he replied, "I understand..." - he turned to Kanan - "...Master".  
"Let's see if you do." Kanan said, handing him his lightsaber.  
Ezra looked up at his new master with respect, a serene Luke Skywalker theme playing in the background.  
They were just about to get up and begin training as master and apprentice when -

"OH MY GAWD I SHIP YOU TWO!1!11!" came the shriek from seemingly nowhere.  
Ezra and Kanan were so alarmed that they fell over backwards.  
"What-aagh!"  
"Wha- _Oomph!_ "

"What was that about?!" Ezra yelled as he sat back up, massaging the back of his head.  
"And what do you mean, you 'ship' us?" Kanan added as he followed suit.  
"OHMYGOD LIKE, LIKE YOU TWO ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER! I AM SO WRITING ABOUT THIS ON AO3, YOU TWO SHOULD-"  
"CUT!" came Mickey's shrill cry.  
For once, Ezra and Kanan were glad to hear it, even if it meant that they had to retake the whole scene. They did not want to hear any more of what the voice had to say.

Later, a filming crew summer intern in her late teens was fired...


	13. Predicaments

13\. Predicaments  
Background: Season 1, Episode 5 (Rise of the Old Masters)  
Rant: I had it all finished when my phone erased it for no reason... I had to write it all again from memory *cries*  
Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Mickey Mouse, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.  
Additional disclaimer: The Banana Song does not belong to me; it belongs to Youtuber Onision. Also I did NOT make up the catchphrase "Yolo".

* * *

It was a bad day for the rebels.  
They had an episode to film.  
No, that was not what made things bad.  
It was the fact that Kanan had spent six hours last night getting drunk on what was called 'beer' and browsing the Internet.

Right now, he was jumping around in the Ghost in circles chanting "ERM A BERNANA! ERM A BERNANA!"  
His words were slurred due to his drunkenness.  
The rest of the crew sat around a table in the ship with their heads in their hands.  
"Filming starts in two hours," Ezra whined.  
"Don't the Disney guys have detoxicating medicine or something?" grumbled Zeb.  
"Chopper, send a message to the nearest Disney office," ordered Hera. Chopper obliged.  
Meanwhile, Kanan proceeded to point at random places and belt out words that all somehow rhymed with 'art'.  
A moment later, Chopper let out a series of short blips.  
"He says he got a reply," translated Sabine.  
"Well, what's it say?" grumbled Zeb.  
Chopper showed a hologram of the reply email. To everyone's dismay, it read:

"Hey. Mickey here.  
We don't have detoxicating medicine because we keep things strictly All Ages, hence, we don't drink, and if Kanan got drunk that's his problem.  
Good luck with that episode."

"Really?!" Ezra blurted out.  
"Well, looks like we'll be filming with a drunk Jedi," Sabinw grinned. "Can't wait to see how that will turn out,"  
"He better stay out of my fur," Zeb muttered.  
The mentioned Jedi was now hopping in one spot and making high-pitched gurgling noises that supposedly came after the chant.  
"Rrrrrrright then," said Hera, "let's... uh... Get on with it."  
She rose from the table with a sigh and everyone followed suit.

Several hours passed.  
The episode had gone surprisingly well without much trouble. Kanan had mostly kept to himself, and things like the Ghost crashing or someone being shot out of the airlock (as Hera had worried) never happened.  
But now, they were facing the most difficult task of the day: infiltrating the Imperial prison.

Kanan and Ezra looked down from the open back hatch of the ship. There was a small platform with an entrance into the prison, guarded by a few stormtroopers.  
"We gotta be careful..." said Ezra.  
"Right," Kanan grinned.  
His verbal slur had worn off, but it wasn't quite so with his brain yet, which was why Ezra was secretly so worried.  
Suddenly, Kanan yelled "YOLO" and jumped. He landed squarely in the middle of the platform, activated his lightsaber and, to Ezra's dismay, chopped through all the troopers.  
'Oh no, we weren't supposed to kill anyone,' he thought miserably as he jumped down after Kanan. 'Mickey's gonna be mad.'  
The alcohol had not touched the Jedi's fighting skills at all for some reason; Ezra did not know how to feel about that.  
He hacked open the prison door and both went inside.

"Hi, Munilara Dululi," Kanan said cheerfully.  
The expressionless Luminara Unduli said nothing as she stood up, and to Ezra's horror, seemed to melt into a carbonite-preserved corpse.  
"Bye, Miliruna Nunduli," Kanan said cheerfully.  
"Kanan we don't have time for this! It's a trap! Let's go!" shouted Ezra. Somehow, not having Kanan to think for him all the time had made him smarter.  
Just then, the cell door slid open.

"So you finally figured it out," said the Grand Inquisitor with an evil grin.  
"Hi Snoke," said Kanan cheerfully.  
The Inquisitor merely raised an eyebrow in his direction, but inside his mind a voice was raging:  
"WAIT A MINUTE SOMETHING'S WRONG HERE  
WHAT IS GOING ON  
THIS IS NOT HOW IT GOES  
WHY IS THAT BOY SO SMART AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THE JEDI  
THAT WAS NOT WHAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY  
THIS IS NOT HOW IT WORKS  
THIS IS NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS  
AND WHY DID HE CALL ME SNOKE  
MY NAME IS NOT SNOKE  
OMFG I THINK THAT JEDI JUST WINKED AT ME WTF"

Ezra didn't have time for this. He grabbed the back scruff of Kanan's shirt and ran out the cell, dragging the man behind him. Of course he could run at full speed while dragging a fully grown human male because he was the main character.  
The Inquisitor noticed this and muttered under his breath, "Damned plot shields," as he gave chase.

"Snoke I think you have something on your face," Kanan pointed at his chaser while being dragged on the floor like a rag doll.  
"It's not Snoke," the Inquisitor snarled as he activated his lightsaber and brought it down in front of him.  
Had Ezra not turned a corner causing Kanan's body to slide to one side at that precise moment, the saber would have cut right through his legs.

The Inquisitor used the Force to knock Ezra off balance. Irritated as he was, he sensed the boy was strong with the Force.  
"The Jedi are dead," he said as he lashed out his saber, initiating a fight, "but there is another path; the dark side."  
He felt the conversation was out of context in this situation, but he tried to stick to his role.  
Instead of igniting his own saber, the boy shot stun bolts from its handle.  
"Never heard of it," he retorted.  
"Heh, I ship you two," came Kanan's giggle.

"...what?"  
"You're my OTP now, hehehe," Kanan went on. He was leaning against a wall with a stupid grin on his face, and his eyes were sliding off focus.  
"What the heck is an OTP?!"  
"Don't ship us!"  
"Is that all you gotta say?! What's wrong with your Jedi, boy?!"  
"It's his fault and BYE!" Ezra yelled as he grabbed Kanan again and ran for it.  
He had been inching towards him this whole short time, using the distraction. He really was smarter today.  
"Bye Snokey Snoke," Kanan said cheerfully as he was dragged on his back once more.  
"IT'S NOT SNOKE!" The Inquisitor yelled and furiously ran after them, his mind raging about how he would let no one ship him with anything.

They met up with Sabine and Zeb in a split corridor. "Trap, huh?" said Sabine as she helped bring Kanan back on his feet.  
"Yep," Ezra replied.  
"Kanan messed up?"  
"Yep."  
And they all ran towards the exit, the Inquisitor's footsteps ringing in the corridor behind them.

Kanan once more displayed amazing skill for a drunken man in defeating the brigade of stormtroopers.  
They had all jumped onto the Ghost and were about to take off when-  
"Eeyyyyy Snokey Snoke," Kanan called out.  
The subject of the insult dashed into view.  
" _IT'S-_ " he jumped over an empty crate-  
" _NOT-_ " he pushed a stormtrooper out of his way-  
" _SNOKE!_ " he threw his now spinning double-bladed lightsaber like a boomerang Frisbee.  
Luckily, Hera pulled away just in time, but had she hadn't, they would've ended up with two Kanan's: the top one and the bottom one.

The Inquisitor stood fuming as he watched the ship grow smaller and smaller in the night sky, then finally stomped back into the prison.  
As he passed by, stormtrooper IM-2LZ could swear he heard him mutter  
" **Not... Snoke... fffff** "

* * *

This one is based on the assumption that Snoke is NOT the Inquisitor, and if by some terrible twist of fate it turns out to be so, I'm screwed.

IM-2LAZY to name a stormtrooper properly.

If you feel uncomfortable about the words OMFG and WTF, they stand for:  
Oh My Flipping Goggles  
and  
What The Fudge  
respectively.

And one more thing...  
 _Pssst!_  
 _His name is Timothy_


	14. More Predicaments

Background: Season 1, episode 12 (Vision of Hope) (Background doesn't really matter in this particular chapter)  
Inspired by my own nasal condition that has been sticking around for TWO FREAKING MONTHS.

P.S. Check out my new fic, _Ghosts_!

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Mickey Mouse, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.  
Partly inspired from a YouTube comment saying that if stormtroopers tried to miss their targets on purpose, they would hit every target.

* * *

" _YATSCHUUF... sniff_ "

That signaled the start of a series of unfortunate events for the stormtroopers.  
Following that first sneeze, a whole legion was infected with the flu virus.  
It was not a strong one, but irritating enough to mess with one's everyday lives.  
For one thing, the rebels could always tell stormtroopers were hiding nearby because of the muffled _TCHOO_ or _echkffe_ behind doors, around corners and inside vehicles.

For another, they failed to be the galaxy's worst shots. Yes, they were supposed to miss every target, but a sneeze would mess up their aim every time and they ended up acing every shooting practice session.

"Alright, there's gonna be a bunch of stormtroopers in there but don't worry, it will be as safe as always," Mickey told the rebels, yet unaware of this situation.  
"Okay," said Sabine while Ezra saluted jokingly. They had no idea what lay waiting.

"YOU TOLD US IT WOULD BE SAFE!" screamed Kanan into the comm twenty minutes later.  
He, Zeb and Sabine were dragging or carrying the rest of the unconscious crew and running as fast as they could towards the nearest blockade which they could hide behind.  
Coughing and sneezing stormtroopers followed close behind.  
Even with their blasters set to Stun (as always, actually), they had knocked out half the rebel crew.  
Once they realized what was happening, they quickly switched to Sting, but even that greatly hindered the crew's plans.

Sabine felt like she was being pummeled with one of those BB guns. The Sting setting hurt... And those troopers were squaring every shot!  
Quickly she jumped behind a pile of rations crates. The rest followed suit.  
"What do you mean, I told you you were safe? You are!" Came Mickey's reply, slightly buzzing with static.  
"Well, safety my great Lasat butt!" yelled Zeb into the comm before Kanan could reply. "When did they get so good?!"  
"Well, I don't know what's going on! Is your team capable of continuing filming?"  
"How can we film when half of us are knocked out?"  
"Ugh. If it's that bad, get back to the main office immediately. We'll... Put it on hold."

And so the episode was put on hold, while half the Ghost crew recovered from stun shots.  
The stormtrooper battalion was replaced with a different one. The soldiers were notified to drop by the medical office for a checkup.  
After they were diagnosed with a flu, thwy were forbidden from appearing in any episodes until they fully recovered, and it was a common sight to see a stormtrooper in bathrobes, drinking hot chocolate.  
Not that they minded any of this.  
Some troopers actually wanted the flu to stick around.  
But alas, biological science worked its way, and it was to much grumbling that the guy in the meds office told the stormtroopers that they were fully healed and back in action.


	15. badl spelinf

Background: Right before "Empire Day". You could assume it happened after/before Chapter 3 (Death Sentence Day).  
Also, I know Lieutenant Lyste doesn't appear until Season 2, but I'm assuming he was Lieutenant for a while.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mickey Mouse, Disney, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.  
Additional disclaimer: The new employee here is made up and I am fully aware that scriptwriting does not work this way in real life.

Tip: In this universe, a script is like a guideline that tells the characters where to go and what missions to accomplish rather than something they have to memorize.

* * *

"Did you guys hear that? They've hired a new scriptwriter!"  
"Is he gonna change our lives?"  
"No, actually, he kind of just writes down what the real scriptwriters come up with."  
"Oh."  
"He's kind of like a scriptwriting secretary."  
"Ah."  
"So our lives are still gonna be generally the same."  
"Yeah, the new guy isn't here to come up with stories, he's here to type, or at least that's what Mickey says."  
The three stormtroopers sat chatting idly away. They were off duty until filming began.  
"Alright, stop chatting," an Imperial officer came walking right up to the troopers' secret displeasure. "They're handing out the new scripts. Stormtroopers go to room 23B, Stardestroyer employees to 24B, Rebels crew to 21A, Sith and Inquisitors to 23B- oh wait, that's stormtroopers..."  
His words faded into a mutter as he walked away. Then, abruptly, the officer walked a few steps back and leaned over.  
"Rumor gets around the new hire is... inexperienced," he advised before walking off again, "very bad at spelling."  
"Uh... thanks, sir," The stormtroopers chorused uncertainly at his back.  
"Alright, let's go," said one trooper.  
"Wonder what he was trying to warn us about with the spelling thing," wondered another.  
"Eh, how bad can it get?"  
How wrong they were.

Twenty minutes later, the trio sat around a table with a bunch of other stormtroopers in room 23B, scowling and squinting under their helmets.  
"My script says I'm supposed to say 'doemethign alogn teh lienfw of cilvildains aer nto alowriwr herwe',"  
"Come again?"  
"'doemethign alogn teh lienfw'... you know what, I'm not reading this aloud again."  
"This guy just smacked his hands on the keyboard!" yelled an irritated soldier, throwing away his sheets of paper with visible frustration. "Screw this!"  
"Now, trooper, such behavior is not very acceptable," said another trooper with a colored shoulder plate. "But I feel you."  
His paper had read that he was supposed to 'afitn in an exloiasion'.  
Complaints could be heard from beyond either walls of their room; someone was apparently ripping apart his script in room 23A, by the sounds of it.

In room 23C, several Imperials with varying ranks in the government or military were having a similarly confusing time.  
"'Thw priemp minsisrt of teh palnrt of Lotsla'?" Minister Tua read aloud with some difficulty, frowning. "What is that even supposed to mean?"  
"You think that's cryptic, try mine," scoffed Agent Kallus. "He really outdid himself on this one." On his script the words "Factilg qprjwr Tseeevi us oeufw topwlnosr prueortt" were printed out.  
"My name isn't spelled _List,_ " Lieutenant Lyste grumbled. "It's _Lyste_. And I'm not a 'liaurenaten'."  
"Do any of you know what a 'bebm' is?" Asked Taskmaster Grint.  
"That one's relatively easy," said Commandant Aresko. "I'm sure he meant to type 'bomb'".  
"I'm afraid you're wrong," said Tua, leaning over to look at Grint's script. "The sentence implies that this 'bebm' rang through a... I'd say it's an area. Bombs don't ring."  
"Well then, it could be a bell," chimed in Lyste, no pun intended.  
"But why does it say it rang through a... 'cwode aserat'? What kind of area is that?" said Grint, squinting.  
"No idea," Kallus joined the conversation now. He had given up on trying to read his own script completely.  
"Maybe if we work together we can decipher this sentence," suggested Tua.  
"Well, that'd be a record," replied Kallus. "I think this one's the most cipherable sentence in the whole batch."  
"Imagine if we were the only ones who managed to read a sentence correctly," grumbled Aresko.  
"Hmmm... Maybe it means 'code assembly'," murmured Grint.  
"Not likely," Lyste retorted. "To me it looks more like 'crowd answer'."  
And so the five put their heads together and started debating.

"Why am I throwing 'wavers of clam' towards wild animals?" Ezra was saying in room 21A.  
He turned the paper upside down to see if it would help (it didn't).  
"Okay, I can mind control through the Force, not 'midn conptrl troug eht Forec.'" said Kanan.  
"I don't remember owning a ship called the 'ghsot'," Hera complained.  
Chopper made complaining noises of his own.  
"Let's see... My name's not 'Savien Ren', I don't wear 'Mndaaloarinm aroir', and I don't like to 'aprat patin'." Sabine said, reading off errors one by one.  
"Did he even try?!" growled Zeb.  
"Based on current observations and proof, I daresay he didn't," replied Kanan.  
"We can't keep up with this script," complained Hera to the approval of others. "We would spend half our time trying to read some stupid word on a paper, wondering where we are supposed to go next, then what if some TIE fighter comes in? Whoops, BOOM," she said angrily, gesturing out an explosion with her hands.  
"She's right," Ezra agreed. "We gotta tell Mickey."

Ten minutes had passed.  
Imperials and Rebels were gathered outside Mickey's office, complaining and waving around pieces of paper.  
The Rebels had gone around knocking on doors and asking for support, and for once, Imperials and Rebels were acting as one... kind of.  
Mickey had never seen them this united. Finally, he opened his office door.  
"Okay, okay, guys, calm down," he said. "I will go and talk to this guy."  
"Just replace him..." the Grand Inquisitor murmured to more whispers of agreement, but Mickey ignored them and trotted out of his office to the office of the new employee.  
Thirty minutes later, he was back.  
"I've told the guy to use autocorrect from now on," he told the crowd. "He's rewriting it."  
As he walked back into his office, he added, "He'll be done in about thirty minutes. Once they're reprinted, there will be no time for further adjustments, so just stick to that script, okay?"  
With that, he slammed the door in the characters' faces.

* * *

 _To be continued..._


	16. Half Speaking

Background: Season 1, "Empire Day"  
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Disney's staff, Mickey Mouse, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

I give credit to my phone's 'Aggressive' Autocorrection setting for all corrected sentences and phrases, including the title.  
Seriously. 'Half Speaking' is 'badl spelinf' Autocorrected.

* * *

"Alright, filming begins in half an hour," said Mickey as he handed out the newly corrected scripts. "No time to review or make changes now, so read them in your ships if you will."  
The characters took their separate scripts without comment, although the more sensible ones had a bad feeling about this.  
Wordlessly, they started splitting up into small groups and heading for individual docking bays with their intended transport.

"Alright," said Hera as she settled in the pilot's seat of the Ghost. "Let's see if we can understand where to go."  
She peered at the first page. The crew started to gather around the cockpit.  
"Okay, step one: Bro to mental for Empire's away... Wait, what?"  
Here's face turned into a frown.  
"I can make out 'Empire'," Ezra suggested unhelpfully.  
"I can't make head or tail of that sentence," said Zeb.  
"I should've known," snapped Sabine. "Autocorrect's a jerk."  
"Bro to mental... Mental... Maybe it has something to do with the mind?" suggested Kanan.  
"The mind of what?"  
"I dunno, but here's a theory..."  
And so the crew began theorizing hypothesis after hypothesis as to what could be their journey's destination for the day, the actual trip being delayed more and more.

Meanwhile, the Imperials were sitting in their shuttle' unable to depart as well.  
"Be in Morgan The empire bay," Lieutenant Lyste read aloud. "Who's Morgan?"  
"'The prison mugged of the plants of Mostly'? That makes even less sense than before!" exclaimed Minister Tua.  
"Factors workers Texas is about follow properties... What?" Agent Kallus was truly confused. "What has Texas got to do with anything?"  
"I'm supposed to fly a 'myself randomly the fighter'. Well I fly TIE fighters so I can kind of guess, but what's with 'myself' and 'randomly'?" questioned Baron Rudor.  
"'thought forever to of on the distance' for me," Commandant Aresko complained. "I can just feel my IQ go down trying to understand this sentence."  
"My lightsaber isn't 'dinner flared'," hissed the Grand Inquisitor to general laughter.

"Lethal... That sounds like Lothal... Lyste, there was something like 'Empire Day' in your script, wasn't there?" observed Grand Moff Tarkin.  
"Oh yeah, I forgot..."  
"Wow, I just remembered..."  
"Oh yeah, today is Empire Day."  
"Sorry Emperor..."  
"What day was it again?" replied Palpatine, too immersed in his own script to pay attention to anything else.  
"Uh, nothing," Rudor replied quickly.  
"Well, if we can't figure out more by the end of this hour, Lothal it is," declared Vader.  
An hour later, apparently they couldn't figure out anything more, because they were heading for Lothal.

At about the same time, the Rebels had gone a very different path.  
"What are we doing in a library in Corellia again?" asked a confused Ezra.  
"There's something about Reddit here," read Kanan. "'Reddit murdering from the enjoyed hand.' I'm gonna access Reddit through one of the Holonet devices here."  
"Sorry Kanan, but the rest of that sentence makes absolutely zero sense, making your argument pretty much invalid," countered Hera.  
"And what of 'Terrible had information score texts partners, ducts patented : INITIATING'?" questioned Sabine, squinting at Hera's script. "There's some dynamic text going on here, but what's initiating? Why is it so important it's in all caps?"  
Hers had mysteriously disappeared; Kanan suspected some kind of deal had been made between her and Chopper.  
Chopper let out a string of blips and clicks. "He says you aren't gonna find info about stuff that hasn't even been filmed," translated Ezra.  
Kanan's mind was blown.

Later that day, the filming crew were reviewing what the cameramen across the galaxy sent back.  
The first two hours featured nothing but the characters sitting around piles of scripts and arguing.  
Then they began traveling in various directions, but things did not go as supposed at all. The assistant director sped the clips forward, only to see the Imperials celebrating Empire Day on Lothal somewhat awkwardly (Vader, Tarkin and Palpatine looked completely out of place) and the Rebels somehow stuck in a sewer on Alderaan.

"What the hell happened?" he said, more confused than a wampa on Tatooine.  
Just then, Mickey - who happened to be close by - got a ring from Ezra.  
"We just can't move forward any further," came the boy's complaining voice.  
"Our script somehow led us here and has quit making sense," added Kanan.  
"What?" Mickey shot back. Then he thought for a minute. "Okay... Okay," he finally said. "Read me the first line on Hera's script. It's supposed to say 'Go to Lothal for Empire Day.'"  
"OHHH SO THAT'S WHAT IT MEANT!" came the loud exclamation from the other side. "Ours said 'Bro to mental for Empire's away', if I remember correctly."

"...What?" now Mickey was confused.  
"Look, mister mouse," said Sabine in a serious tone, "Autocorrect can totally screw up a sentence rather than correct it, especially if you're a horrible speller." "Your new guy practically mashes his keyboard with his palms. I strongly insist you replace him," Hera joined in.  
"I-" here Mickey inhaled then exhaled as much as his tiny cartoon mouse lungs would allow - "Alright. As much as we are behind schedule, we can't go on if you're stuck in some sewer. Come back to the office. I'll call the others back too. Filming's cancelled today."  
"Okay, cool, thanks!" replied Sabine before shutting off.

And then... Not much happened. The characters all came back to the Disney office, the misspelling guy was put in another department that didn't require him to type, a new scriptwriter without keyboard issues was hired, and they all took a break for the rest of that day.  
Throughout the corridors, a Disney employee would often hear a character or two attempting to sooth their headaches with calming music...


	17. Babysitting

Background: Season 2 Episode 10 "The Future of the Force"  
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

* * *

When the Inquisitors got back to their TIE fighters with the Force-sensitive baby, they thought their work was almost over save for tracking down the other one.  
Problem was, traveling with an infant wasn't nearly as easy as they thought.

Barely ten minutes had passed since takeoff when the baby, sitting on the Seventh Sister's laps (mainly because there was no cargo hold), started wailing.  
At first she ignored it, but the bawling grew louder and louder until she couldn't concentrate on piloting.

"Brother," she commed her companion, "Let's stop by one of those asteroids. I want you to take the infant."  
"What? Why are you screaming?" was his response; the baby's voice had drowned hers out.  
"IT'S NOT ME, IT'S THIS BLASTED BABY!" she yelled back.  
"WELL IF IT'S THAT LOUD I'M NOT TAKING IT," he, too, started yelling.  
"IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY!"  
"NOT GONNA!"  
"IF YOU DON'T TAKE IT I'LL MAKE YOU!"  
"WAAAAAAAAAH!"  
"SHUT UP!"  
"DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK IT CAN UNDERSTAND YOU?"  
"WELL THEN WHY DON'T YOU HAVE A GO?"  
"MAKE ME!"  
"WAAAAAAH!"  
"I SAID SHUT UP!"

After much loud vocal negotiation, the Seventh Sister finally persuaded (meaning: threatened) the Fifth Brother into taking over the job of transporting the baby. As she boarded their ships again and took off from a particularly large asteroid, she wondered how many minutes he would last.

Turns out five was the limit.  
"Why is it screaming?!" the Fifth Brother inquired via comm, on the verge of screaming himself. Slightly muffled screeches were also audible; the Brother had flipped it over in an attempt to silence it somehow.  
"I don't know, you sounded like you were so good at it," she shot back.  
"That was common sense, not babysitter stuff," came the reply.  
Just then, the baby somehow flipped itself back, sending loud cries into the comm to assault the Inquisitors' ears.  
"WHAT THE HELL, I THOUGHT IT COULDN'T DO THAT!" the Seventh Sister could hear her coworker's alarmed yell as his TIE fighter fumbled off course. Apprently he was having more trouble than she ever did.  
"He called for it," she muttered.

By the time they arrived on Lothal, they had taken at least half a dozen turns each on the dreaded infant.  
"Turns out it quiets down if you pat it," stated the Seventh Sister as if that was a grand discovery.  
The Fifth Brother was too tired to argue. "What now?" he said instead.

"Uh..."  
"..."

Then they both remembered.

"..."  
"...shit." 

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
What I'm gonna write here is a bit of a glum status update, so if you don't want to read it you don't have to.

So my dad and I had a car crash two weeks ago. At first we thought we were okay, but after several X-Rays and an MRI each, turns out my dad has serious spinal ailments that usually don't appear until the age of sixty and over, and I have a scoliosis condition in which my spine is bent sideways in a stretched out S shape. A doctor told us these both have to do more with genetics than personal issues; my dad's family has several male members with bad spines, and my scoliosis is nearly impossible to be caused by bad posture alone at my age.  
Also, the MRI shows that my dad's spinal cord is severely damaged at one point in the neck; the doctor was surprised he was still walking and talking.  
It is strongly suggested that he undergoes surgery, but we can't afford it and he can't take that many days off work unless he quits.  
We are getting on with life, but also at a loss for what to do.  
For now, all we can do is pray to whoever's up there.


	18. Ezra No

Background: At first it was gonna be sometime after Season 2, "The Honorable Ones", but then I realized I wanted to put many characters from different timelines in it and then I screwed logic so this is an alternate timeline altogether...  
Or just sometime in season one.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Star Wars Rebels, any of its characters or AO3. Also, no offense to the creators of AO3 or its users, but man, there's some weird stuff right there.  
Also, this one kind of bashes anything that has to do with shipping. But if you're a shipper yourself, please keep in mind that this was not meant to offend anyone, including you.

(Wow I'm sadistic. The characters must hate me.)

* * *

It was an extremely hot day on Lothal.  
Not that Lothal was a planet of low temperatures, but this day was nearly as twice as hot as usual. Its inhabitants suspected the reason was a large solar flare. They chose to stay indoors for the day; the outside was scorching enough to melt plastic.  
Normally, Imperials and Rebels would be bickering about in side streets, but today was too hot for either side to fight.

The crew of the Ghost, Rebel sympathizers, the officers of the Edmpire and its agents were all lounging around in a parked Imperial shuttle (because logic) because it happened to be the nearest and only place with AC that wasn't somebody else's house.

"If only my ship had air conditioning," Hera grumbled. "But _noooo_ , it had to have heaters only and what use is a heating system when you're already getting fried, and now we're stuck with stinking Imperials,"  
"Mmmrgh," replied Kanan as he lay face down under a small table. Hera took it as an expression of agreement.  
"Shut up, rebel scum," Kallus retorted. "Why aren't we just flying this shuttle to the stormtrooper academy already?"  
"Because that will shut off the A/C for about five minutes while the shuttle's engine heats up, and that's quite enough time for us to get baked brown," argued Valen Rudor.

"I can't believe we're stuck like this because of a stupid solar flare," grumbled Zeb. "I'd really like to throw you lot out of the shuttle but Mickey's gonna kill me if you die," He continued, glaring at the Imperials.  
"I was thinking, does your fur protect you against heat? Because I'll be glad if you didn't die while out of the shuttle, but were on the verge of death." Kallus shot back.

"Uuuggghh we'll be stuck here all day," Ezra whined. "I'm bored already. What do I do?"  
"Why don't you go see if you can survive outside?" suggested the Grand Inquisitor.  
Ezra ignored him.  
"I know, I'll just browse the Internet!" he exclaimed after a moment. He then proceeded to pick up a laptop that had just been there on the tabletop for no particular reason.  
"Whatever," said Sabine.

Ezra turned on the laptop, which was also connected to the Internet for some mysterious reason, and started wasting his life.  
About an hour of his time had drifted away in the mindless but fascinating stream of the World Wide Web when he Googled himself and found something interesting - something about him.  
Or, more like, something about them.  
"Kanan, look!" he called out. "Some people wrote stuff about us!"  
"Hhmmrrg?"  
"It's a-" he squinted- "fanflic- no, it's called a fanfic! That sounds interesting!"  
At the word 'fanfic', Kanan unstuck his face from the floor. He didn't know why, but he had a very bad, very deja-vu feeling about this, perhaps something about a memory involving the Grand Inquisitor. "Are you sure? Why don't you, um, go to Reddit or something?" he asked uncertainly.  
"C'mon, Kanan, it's not like we get to see ourselves in literature every day," said Sabine. "Besides, we don't have anything else to do. The more stupid stuff Ezra finds for us, the faster time will flow."  
The Imperials were starting to look interested now; after all, they had mainly been draped motionlessly across the floors and on the chairs for the past hour.  
"Whatcha got there, boy?" said Taskmaster Grint.  
"Somethingto pass time, apparently," replied Minister Tua in Ezra's place.  
Ezra was now hovering his mouse on a link that started with 'archiveofourown'.  
"So... check or nah?" he asked.

Sabine: "Check!"  
Hera: "Eh..."  
Zeb: "Whatever."  
Half a dozen Imperials: "Ehh."  
Kanan: "No."  
Grand Inquisitor: "NO."  
Chopper: "Bleep blurp."  
Tarkin: "Ehhhh..."  
Vader: *Breathes* "Eh."

One could blame the weather for all the things that happened afterwards, for if the heat hadn't meddled with everyone's brains, causing them to just grunt out a collective "Ehh", and causing Ezra to interpret them as a 'yes', the incidents of that afternoon would not have happened.  
Unfortunately, it did. Ezra went and clicked the link, right in the middle of the first page of Google search results.

"Huh, the title is pretty meh..." Ezra kept scrolling down.  
"Oh look, I'm in it... Kanan you're in it too!"  
Slowly, everyone started gathering around him to peer at the monitor.  
"Well he pretty much just wrote down what we do every day, fly around in the Ghost and... Wait, what?"  
Ezra's eyes narrowed. "Kanan, is this supposed to be a metaphor?"  
Kanan's stomach churned as he looked closer. "No, it's not... IT'S THE HORRIBLE THING THAT IT IS, EZRA, SHUT IT OFF NOW!"

But Ezra didn't shut it off. "These can't all be like this," he said, going back to the main Google page and looking for different things. Kanan thought his apprentice still didn't fully grasp the truth of what lay in the dark corners of AO3.

Thirty minutes passed and things weren't boring inside the shuttle anymore.  
"They ship us?!" Zeb shrieked in a very un-Zeb-like voice.  
"Me and him?!" Agent Kallus also screeched in a very un-Kallus-like voice.  
Zeb tried to run out of the shuttle in desperation, but to his dismay the very ground scorched his feet. "Aargh!" He hopped back in.  
Agent Kallus found a more effective way of shutting things out: he wore his helmet backwards now.  
Seeing this, Hera, Sabine, Rudor, Minister Tua and the Seventh Sister also wore their helmets backwards.

Ezra yelled "Wtf, this is not like the title at all!" before fainting; Chopper tried to shut down the laptop without looking at its contents, but all he did was find a dirty AMV on YouTube.  
"No! Stupid droid!"  
"I wish I couldn't see!"  
"Please don't tell me that was me!"  
"What was THAT?!"  
Screams of agony filled the shuttle as dirty fanart after dirty fanart appeared on screen.  
"Are you guys stupid? Just close the damned thing!"

In the chaos, nobody had thought of that.  
One brave stormtrooper shot forward to snap the laptop closed, and threw it out the back hatch where it started to sizzle on the ground, giving off a smell of melting metal and burning circuits.  
Nobody said anything for a while as they nearly knocked themselves out with relief.

"We... have reconditioning services designed to wipe the minds of stormtroopers," Kallus spoke up finally.  
"I think we all need that," said Hera shortly.  
"I'm scarred forever," moaned Ezra.  
"We all are," groaned Vader.

They spent the rest of the day stuck in the shuttle in awkward silence, brooding, while several Imperials contacted a nearby military base and arranged for mass reconditioning. 

* * *

Did you catch the consistency? *Gasp* My fics are consistent for more than two chapters! The world is going to end!

More glum statud updates: My dad visited a larger hospital and the doctor said that sometimes spinal cords are damaged in such a way that it just doesn't cause paralysis or anything but kind of stays put. Which is my dad's condition, the doctor assumed. We're feeling rather relieved for now.  
As for me, I'm physically okay. However, I scored 87 out of 100 in an online depression test by Psychology Today (0 being least depressed and 100 being most depressed) and I'm not sure if I should be worried.


	19. The Return of the Plot Shields

Background: Basically any episode with stormtroopers in it

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

* * *

A dozen stromtroopers stampeded through the streets of Lothal, intent on their prey.  
A Lasat and a blue-haired boy ran from them, apparently having done some kind of serious offense as usual.  
The stormtroopers fired their blaster bolts, which swept over the road and left scorch marks all over.  
But instead of even one shot hitting its mark, they ricocheted off the targets with loud CLANGs.  
The troopers slowed down as they saw a blueish shiny metal board hovering behind the rebels' backs, reading PLOT SHIELD.  
"Didn't someone tell you? Noobs," Ezra teased as he ran away with Zeb, climbed a building and leapt over a huge gap in the rooftops because screw physics, he was the main character.  
The stormtroopers tried to follow suit but they all fell down.

"Seriously?!" TK-234 got up, massaging his helmet.  
"Mickey didn't tell us about this!" raged LD-011.  
He started to swear, but unfortunately all the others heard was only a two-minute-long _BEEP_ because the show was PG.  
"We can't even do this now?!" cried LD-011 in dismay as he realized that his anger had gone quite unnoticed, save for him having stomped the ground real hard.  
"Well... I think Mickey banned swearing after an incident or two."  
"SCREW THIS I'M DONE!"  
NF-983 threw off his helmet.  
But his face didn't show because the animators didn't render stormtrooper faces; all that showed was a blank stretch of skin-colored surface.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"  
The trooper's screams echoed in the back streets of Lothal, heard but nevertheless ignored by Ezra and Zeb who were now merrily jogging towards their ship.

* * *

OH MY GOD CONSISTENCY! *faints*

Okay so this was a really short chapter; I wrote it in one go after coming home from a SAT test and my brain is all hazy. Boy that was the longest test I ever took. Hopefully I get okay marks.

And everyone, though I can't answer every single comment now, I am thanking you all so much for your kind comments. They cheered me up a lot.  
I hope you don't get upset even if you don't get an answer, and keep in mind that I nevertheless read every comment.


	20. Food Wars - Part 1

Woohoo! 20 chapters already!

Background: Sometime in Season 1. Wow, these backgrounds are getting more and more obscure.

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

Warning: NEVER EVER IMITATE THE ACTIVITIES MENTIONED HERE. THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FICTION. WASTING PERFECTLY EDIBLE FOOD IS A HEINOUS CRIME.

* * *

The bell struck twelve in the Disney office building.

Normally the Star Wars characters would be off in some distant planet, but today was Saturday and everyone was staying on Earth for a rest.  
The corridor was suddenly full of stampeding characters. Everyone rushed to get their lunch.

The Ghost crew arrived at the cafeteria late; they had had trouble fixing a minor engine problem.  
The cafeteria was teeming with all kinds of TV show characters and there wasn't a lot of seats for the Rebels to sit on.  
"Go find your own corner," a triangular demon shooed them away when they tried to sit at one table after receiving their meal trays (Ezra nervously watched him drink coffee with his eye).  
"That looks like it can seat six people," said Sabine, pointing at another table with her chin.  
"Five people and a droid," corrected Hera. Chopper let out a disgruntled beep.

"Uh oh," said Kanan as they drew closer, however; one side of the table was occupied by none other than their enemies, the Imperials - the Grand Inquisitor, governor Tarkin, Minister Tua, Agent Kallus, commandant Aresko and Taskmaster Grint to be exact.  
Ezra immediately looked left and right, desperately searching for other seats, but the only ones available were taken by the yellow triangle demon - it now looked as though his friends were arriving, which made Ezra want even less to go there again.  
"We have no choice," Hera grumbled, apparently sharing a ride on his thought train. "It's either sit here or risk losing your soul."

So they unwillingly settled down and began to eat.  
At once, Ezra could feel the disapproving glare of the Imperials. He tried looking down at his food and concentrated on cutting a boiled potato in half, but unfortunately their gazes kept tingling his forehead and he wasn't as patient a person as his master.

Without warning, he grabbed half of his now cut potato and hurled it in the Inquisitor's direction.

None of them had expected this.  
The potato landed with a _SPLAT_ on the Inquisitor's chest armor.  
He stared blankly at Ezra...  
That is, for two seconds.

"You little brat," he snarled, savagely wiping the potato off his front, and grabbed his glass of orange juice to splash on the boy's smirking face, but unfortunately for him, Mickey passed by the table at that precise moment.  
"Oh goodie, you guys are eating together!" the mouse beamed, stopping by to inspect. "Friendship is a wonderful thing!" and he walked off, purposefully ignoring the Inquisitor's glare.  
"Friendship my ass," snorted Grint.

"Let's see if you can grin like that at the end of the day," seethed the Grand Inquisitor.  
"You have just declared war on us and we will retaliate accordingly," warned Vader.  
"As if we weren't enemies already," growled Zeb. "Well done kid, well done."  
"Well, at least it's a food fight! Food war's gonna be fun!" Ezra argued defensively.  
"Fun my great Jedi butt," scoffed Kanan.  
Hera said nothing and attacked her fried eggs with a fork. 

* * *

Another two-parter coming in! Twenty chapters already! Thank you so much guys!

(Did anyone catch the blatantly huge in-your-face Gravity Falls cameo?)

Sorry about the long hiatus.

* * *

Last Monday my dad got really angry at me for something and I ran away to my teacher's house.  
When I let her hear some recordings of my dad getting mad, she said he was probably depressed.  
He obsesses over me. He didn't use to be like this but a lot of bad things happened in the last couple of years.  
I hope things get better.


	21. Hiatus(Sorry!)

FOR OLD READERS:  
You're probably wondering why there isn't a 'Chapter 21: Food Wars Part 2'.  
Don't worry, I still plan on continuing said Food Wars chapter; however, I just couldn't come up with a Part 2. I hit writer's block.

FOR NEW READERS:  
This piece of rant you are reading here right now wasn't supposed to be Chapter 21. I had originally planned a two-parter, but I couldn't come up with its second part.

* * *

FOR ALL READERS:  
I apologize, but I think I have to declare a hiatus. I promise I will never abandon this fic, at least not before the show Star Wars Rebels ends.  
However, I do need a break; I need to come up with new ideas, make fresh humor.  
Ever since I started this little joke of mine, I've been updating every few days, but I guess I had my limits.  
Now I feel as if I have been running fast for a while, and now am out of breath. I need to take a rest before I can start running again.  
Even at this moment, I have a dozen ideas for fresh chapters stored in my phone, but my writing refuses to work further; that also being one of the reasons I cannot finish Food Wars. I just can't get myself to refine the second part. And the other ideas as well.

I have loads of funny ideas; they pop into my head at the randomest of times.  
And I write them down; mostly I keep them, sometimes I ditch the s[beep]tier ideas.  
But whereas I used to be able to add elements to those ideas, yes, elements, the meat of the story, dialogues, action, thoughts, narratives, yes those...  
Can't write those anymore.  
That part of my brain is temporarily frozen and I need to thaw it, and until it's working again, the ideas would just stay ideas.

Now, I know none of you have been urging me, but just in case:  
Don't be mad. I WILL be back. It's gonna be a month at most.  
I am deeply sorry. I know I made many people laugh with this and I ain't giving that up.  
You guys are awesome.  
Love you guys, see ya.

P.S. I found a lost stag beetle in a library. I gave him chocolate milk. I call him Stan now. He is spinning in circles as I write this.


	22. Food Wars - Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This is a fanfic.

Don't waste your food kids. This is just a fanfic.

(silently screaming) I'M BAAAAACK

...with a slightly twisted brain.

* * *

After lunch the Ghost crew retreated to their ship. And so did the Imperials.  
The Ghost and the Imperial shuttle was parked next to each other.  
But the rebel team was hugely mistaken if they thought they were gonna get a good rest after a filling meal, for standing atop the Ghost was none other than Lord Darth Sith Apprentice Emperor's Right Hand™ Vader, and with a gallon of orange juice in his hands too!

"What is he doing there?!" Ezra shouted.  
Without warning, Vader threw the contents of the gallon bottle straight at Ezra's face. Only, the main character shield deflected it, hitting Hera full in the face instead.  
"What was that about?!" Hera sputtered after three seconds, but Vader had mysteriously disappeared.  
"He's gone!" Ezra gasped.  
"No there he is," Sabine pointed to Vader's face now plastered against the inside of the Imperial shuttle.  
He would've been wagging his tongue had it not been for the mask.  
Kanan growled. "I will get revenge for this," he said and disappeared towards the kitchens.

"What do you think he's doing?" Ezra asked Hera as they went into their ship. (Well, Hera technically went in to dry off the orange juice, but whatever.)  
"No idea," Zeb grunted in her place.  
But they had the idea soon enough, when the air outside was suddenly filled with spattering sounds and the sounds of the Force in full motion.  
They looked outside to see Kanan throwing like 50 tomatoes at once towards the Imperials' ship. Its windows quickly became matted with reddish muck and slime.  
A lot of people in there were apparently yelling. Ezra could make out some words, but he paid no heed.  
He should've, then he wouldn't have missed the Grand Inquisitor's revenge plan.  
But he didn't.

Hera, on the other hand, had Chopper record everything in case they needed to go to Disney court for damage of property.  
This is part of what he recorded.

SPLAASJFLSIF

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT

(Tarkin's voice)"-JEDI SCUM-"

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT

(Grand inquisitor's voice) "-WITH TOMATOES-"

(Minister Tua's voice) "-shuttle-"

SPLAT SPLAT

(Kanan's voice) TASTE THE TOMATOES [ _bleeeep-the speech fragment has been redacted for child mental safety_ ]

(Grand Inquisitor's voice) "-REVENGE-"

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATDLTADADTADPDPAPLPASSPSP

Anyway, after Kanan finally ran out of Tomatoes after an hour or so, and the Imperials filed out of their ship to clean it (watching Vader trying to mop the top of the vessel without wetting his cloak was a fun thing to watch), the Rebels took a break.  
"Mickey says there's an episode to film tomorrow," Hera told the crew in a bored voice at 7 p.m. sharp for no particular reason. "So sleep tight."  
"Night night."  
"Night."  
"N'."  
And they all went to bed.

The next day, they found themselves flying off to a now-officially-canon-declared-by-Disney planet. About thirty minutes had passed when the ship's radar caught something behind them.  
"Oh no, it's the Inquisitor's TIE fighter!" whined Ezra.  
"But he's not in the scripts today..." frowned Kanan.  
Just then,  
 _ **SPLAT**_

They stared.  
A large, red, mucky stain, full of green seeds wrapped in slime.  
Splattered across the dead center of the windshield.

"It's a tomato," Kanan whispered in horror.  
"MUHAHAHAHA!" came the Inquisitor's evil voice through the comm. "I TOLD YOU YOU'D NEVER GET AWAY WITH THOSE TOMATOES WITHOUT REVENGE FROM ME! I PUT THE BIGGEST ROTTEN TOMATO IN MY MISSILE CANNON AND NOW IT'S ON YOUR WINDSHIELD! HA!"  
The voice buzzed out, leaving the Rebels dumbfounded.

"Uh... we should probably get that window cleaned somewhere," piped up Ezra after a while.  
"Yeah, yeah," replied Hera half-mindedly, still with a blank face on.  
"Yeah, we should," she added hurriedly, regaining intelligence.

Later, Mickey was displeased with the report that filming had been delayed because the Ghost dropped by a ship washing place on Alderaan, but once he got the full report of what happened he decided he was too lazy to sort out the punishments, and so, for once, nobody was sent home without dinner.

* * *

Like I said I'M BACK and my brain felt really empty while writing this.  
Hope you enjoyed nevertheless.  
Derp.


	23. Reused Models

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, you'd be seeing this on TV instead of a fanfiction website.

* * *

"I'm pretty sure we've seen that woman before," muttered Ezra as he rounded a corner for the umpteenth time with his friends.  
"You're just imagining it Ezra," said Kanan.  
"But everything's been so deja vu lately!" argued Ezra. "I swear I've seen that building with the placard before, and I'm new to this street!"  
Kanan made to protest but stopped as he ran face first into an invisible wall. He blinked. Beyond the wall there was gray nothingness.  
In slightly lighter gray, large bold letters flashed "END OF MAP".  
"Well now that's a bit odd," acknowledged the jedi as they turned back.

A woman passed by.  
"It's that woman again!" panicked Ezra.  
"There now, ezra, no need to panic, we'll just look at people we see and check if they're the same," consoled Hera.  
And so they wandered the streets, slipping into crowds and sneaking along alleys.

"Dark skinned lady who looks like the Minister... that's the fifteenth time I've seen one," whispered Sabine.  
"Look over there!" Zeb pointed.  
There was a large crowd in a side street for an unknown reason, but what striked the Rebels as suspicious was the repeating figures of people.  
"Look, a black guy-"  
" _Ezra that's racist!_ "  
"Okay, an African American guy even though we're on Lothal, he's over there, AND five feet from there, and also there!"  
"Every person we see has copies of him or her!" exclaimed Kanan.

The team went quiet as something dawned upon them, something they could not quite put their fingers on.  
"What if..."  
"We're being controlled..."  
"On a planet of clones..."  
"By the Imperials..."  
"Can't be, even their officers look the same..."  
"Then what if..."  
"Could it be..."  
"ILLUMINATI AAAGAJDGSAKFHLDJFSA"

Meanwhile, in the Disney office, the head of the animation department rose from his seat and said,  
"Shit, they've noticed."

* * *

sorry not sorry for overused joke


	24. R2D2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except this fanfic. It's called FANfiction for a reason.

This episode isn't necessarily related to Star Wars Rebels.  
Partially inspired form a YouTube comment that R2D2 is the most vulgar Star Wars character because every single word uttered by him is beeped out.  
Some written out scenes are different from what's in the actual show. Well, probably one, or, y'know, just all of them.  
Also, I'm not sure if droid translators actually exist in the Star Wars universe. They probably don't because the overpoweredness of main characters include droid linguistic abilities.

* * *

"Hello, little droid," said Ezra as R2D2 strutted into the Ghost - if it could be called strutting, as the mentioned droid moved on wheels.  
"Blip blrp brrliiip," R2 replied.  
"Wish I could understand what those things were saying," grumbled Zeb.  
"You can if you just try hard enough," countered Kanan.  
"Not for me, do you know how long I've been with your orange chum, and I still can't understand a single word he says."  
"Oh something might help, wait," piped up Ezra. "I picked up something in the junkyard the other day. It translates most droid speech into text."  
"The R2D2 model is a wee little bit old-" here R2 beeped in protest "-no offense droid, but anyway, what's the harm in trying?" Sabine speculated.

Ezra ran to his room and came back seconds later with a flat boxy object that looked like some kind of remote controller.  
It did not have any special features except one side was gridded with what seemed to be either speakers or microphones and a blinking screen took up most of the front side.  
"Right," explained Ezra, "So how this is supposed to work, is you get the mic end near the speaking droid and the speech will appear in English on this screen,"

"You mean Aurebesh," corrected Hera.  
"Yeah Aurebesh,"  
"Don't you mean Old Aurebesh?" interrupted Kanan.  
"No, what we're reading is English and the other one is Aurebesh..."  
"isn't English the same as Old Aurebesh?"  
"Where did that come from?"  
"Dunno, a fanfic..."  
"Then it's not canon. English came after Old Arabic-"  
"You mean Aurebesh-"  
"That and we're using Aurebesh-"  
"So that must mean this is English-"  
"I think it's the other way around or something-"

"Okay yeah yeah whatever. I just wanted to hear what this droid had to say, not listen to a debate on linguistic origins," Zeb cut off.

"Well then, let's do this!" said Ezra cheerfully.  
"Riiight... Let's see what R2 says in Aurebenglish," muttered Kanan, not wanting to piss Hera off.

"Go on little droid, what were you saying?"  
"Beep brrlpip blarp beeep..." R2 talked on.  
"It's working!" exclaimed Kanan as green letters began writing themselves on the screen of the translation device. "Wait..." Hera frowned.  
R2 kept talking.  
A speech of some sort formed on the screen, such a speech that everyone turned, aghast, to the blue and white droid, still letting out a string of something that they couldn't hear the same again.  
The text on the device said, with much censorship necessary:  
"Do you *%$*ing know how much %$*%$ing $ ^%$(^%ed $#ed !%#*%^#$(^%! #$ I went through today?! $ &$#&%**ing %^$(&^%(&%^ed ^%(&^%)&^)&*^)&%)%s and ! #%)*&^#^#!%ing !$ # !&#$ &$s are %! #*ing with my !#^6%!*^%ing $!#%%$!# *&$ed system, you **&%)#*%#&)( *&%() #*&$ #*$& #*$& #(*$&s!"

The speech would've gone on, but Hera turned the device off before any more of Ezra's innocence was lost.

"I think I like this droid," said Zeb, breaking the silence.


	25. Orientation for Maul

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It's called FANfiction, not CANONfiction.

Also DID YOU GUYS WATCH THE NEW SWR SEASON 3 TRAILER OHMYGAWSH IT'S FREAKIN THRAWN IT'S THRAWN ERMAHGERD AND THERE'S MORE DARTH MAUL AND KANAN HAS A MUSTACHE ASDGFSKDHFAS;JKGAHSLGJAGJAD;HSG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

...okay i'll just write the story...

* * *

"So!" Mickey finished with a brilliant smile, snapping shut a guidebook about reused characters and slamming them down on the desk between him and Maul, former Sith apprentice and warrior. "You survived a lot of things, getting cut in half, etc, etc,..."- Maul grimaced - "BUT! A new life awaits for you here at Disney, filming begins sometime early this week, so... ENJOY!"

And with that Mickey slammed the door in Maul's face, leaving him quite alone in the shiny white corridor.

"...That was it?" he muttered to himself. He decided to pick a random direction to walk in. Eventually he would meet someone who could be of actual help.  
He was just about to go left when something - or someone - half-transparent drifted out of the opposite wall.  
"Hello," said the ghost of the Grand Inquisitor. "I see you're the new recruit."  
"I... suppose," replied Maul. "Who are you?"  
"Oh, I was the villain until, let's see, about twenty episodes back."  
"What do you mean _until_?" Maul began to grow slightly worried. "And I still don't recognize you."  
"Well, if you want it formally, I am the Grand Inquisitor, head of a group of force-sensitives the Galactic Empire put together to hunt down remaining Jedi knights. And, I think you're in need of some explanation..."  
Maul suddenly remembered some other Disney products he'd seen on the way here.  
'Please don't sing, please don't sing...' he repeated in his mind.  
The Inquisitor could apparently sense Maul's panic, for he said, "Do not fear, be thankful that you are in one of the few Disney shows that exclude musical numbers uttered by voice. Also I can't sing. Let's go this way. Follow me."  
Somewhat confused but still conscious, Maul decided to follow this odd little - well, tall - Pau'an.

"There's where the _rebel scum_ sleep," the Inquisitor growled as he glided outside the office building and along the spaceship parking lot, "and that's where Imperials sleep, and that's where neutrals sleep, I think you'd belong somewhere there." he pointed to a space between an Imperial camping shuttle and a Mandalorian space van.  
As Maul followed him without comment back into the office building, he couldn't help noticing a Disney employee quarreling with some Twi'lek who'd parked her ship way too close to his car.  
'What kind of place is this?' he started to wonder.

"That's where the scriptwriters, aka your life and death, usually work, so be nice to them. Not that it'll help much. Oh and THERE's the little shit that every Imperial hates."  
Looking toward the place where the Grand Inquisitor was pointing at, Maul thought 'little' shit was a bit of an understatement.  
It was a very large, metallic bubble, somehow see-through yet sturdy, branded with the Disney logo and large letters 'MAIN CHARACTER/PLOT SHIELD', taking up a whole corridor.  
Maul noted that it was probably centered around someone mobile as it seemed to twitchingly move this way and that.  
"That one belongs to Ezra Bridger. You'll get to know him soon enough. That bubble is hard to break, as in figuratively, because see," - he walked into the bubble - "-you can get as close to him as you want, but that kid just keeps coming back to life or something!"  
'Like me,' Maul thought. He turned to check if he had a huge bubble shield of his own.  
"Don't count on it," came the Grand Inquisitor's voice. "You might've survived Clone Wars, but Disney isn't as lenient as Cartoon Network or I would've survived."  
"Oh."  
'What kind of situation did I get myself stuck in?' he started to worry.

"Who is this Ezra Bridger, anyway?" he asked his ghost companion as they strolled down the corridors.  
"I told you, you'll see for yourself soon enough. Disney made up a whole bunch of new characters, including me, probably just to sell more merchandise." he seemed to droop a little. Maul felt sorry for him, but did not show it.  
'At least there's no singing.' he thought to himself.  
"You'll have to keep telling yourself that a lot," came his companion's voice. "Also, I think I've shown you pretty enough; the map of the office is on the first floor, second left corridor. I gotta go back into the void of dead characters again."

"Fairwell."

As the Grand Inquisitor disappeared into yet another opposing wall, Maul wondered if he had made yet another bad life choice. 

* * *

Season 3 isn't out yet so we don't exactly know what Maul's position in the show will be!

I remember being really happy after watching a couple episodes of SWR then realizing it was songless.


	26. Hiatus Again (Sorry!)

Another little hiatus announcement... I'm sorry!

I'm going to Ghana this summer, from 7/23 to 8/13. Around three weeks.

I might have wifi, but there's low chance that I will be able to upload a chapter during the stay.

But I'll do the brainstorming and do the writing, and when I come back there will be chapters waiting to be uploaded, hopefully!

Have a good day and see you in three weeks!


	27. Saddles

Disclaimer: I don't own Mickey Mouse, Disney, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

This is a fanfiction, meaning that it features somebody else's characters in return of being non-profit and non-commercial.

Background: Sometime after the Luminara Unduli episode

Also,guys, I'm back, and thank you for waiting! I was really busy but still came up with ideas, so I will post two chapters today and more throughout the week!

Oh and by the way did you notice you can now upload documents in the app as well?

* * *

It was another boringly eventful day on Lothal; Ezra and Kanan were being chased around by the Grand Inquisitor in some important Imperial facility as usual.  
Ezra looked back to see how far the Inquisitor was behind them. He was rather close.  
He could see the different components of his attire – usually not a good sign.  
Then a question suddenly popped up in his head.

"Hey Inquisitor, what are those on your legs?" he stopped and asked.  
Their pursuer stopped in his tracks. So did Kanan.  
"What on my legs?"  
"Those, pads, on your thighs. What are they?"  
"Well…" the Inquisitor pondered about it for a moment. "I suppose it is some kind of protection…"  
Unfortunately, Ezra had already come up with an idea of his own.  
"It looks like a saddle," he announced gleefully.

"What?"  
"Is that a saddle?"  
"It's not a saddle!"  
"Well then what is it?"

"It's a saddle! OMG EVERYONE THE INQUISITOR IS A HORSE! COME RIDE HIM!"  
"IT'S NOT A SADDLE!"  
"Oh my god Kanan, the more I look at that thing, the more it looks like a saddle! HORSE CONFIRMED!"  
"SCREW YOU GUYS I'M NOT A FLIPPING HORSE!"  
"C'mon Kanan, let's ride him!"  
"FUCK OFF!"  
"Aw, just one ride, please?"  
"PUPPY EYES DO NOT WORK ON ME, PADAWAN!"  
"...Okay then."

With a mischievous grin, Ezra sprang after the Inquisitor.  
Feeling that something had gone terribly wrong, but nevertheless concerned for his own safety, he turned and ran the opposite direction.  
Kanan silently congratulated his apprentice for turning the tides in such a unique way.

However, as the characters somehow called it a day and Mickey reviewed the recorded videos, he would not be as pleased about half the episode being Ezra and Kanan running around after the Inquisitor (who also grew visibly more agitated in every shot and yelled "I am not for riding!" for some unknown reason) and not the other way around.


	28. Physical Advantages

Disclaimer: I don't own Mickey Mouse, Disney, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

This is a fanfiction, meaning that it features somebody else's characters in return of being non-profit and non-commercial.

Background: A bit before 'Twilight Of The Apprentice'

Partially inspired by a YouTube comment on a clip from the 2008 Clone Wars series saying that a headbutt from Maul would hurt a lot.

Also… OH MY GOD CONSISTENCY

* * *

Maul sat in his quarters, browsing boring information on the Holonet about a Sith Temple he would be visiting sooner or later to face his foes and do his part.

The ghost of the Grand Inquisitor slouched through the back wall.  
Maul did not mind, as he was now something of a regular acquaintance.

"Quite some horns you have there," the ghost mused after observing him (and his space laptop) silently for a while.  
"All Zabraks have horns," Maul retorted.  
"A headbutt from that head would hurt like a Wampa bite," the Inquisitor went on. "Could be of great use as a weapon."  
"Are you hinting me that I should go around heatbutting my opponents?" questioned Maul.  
"Well, not so much as hinting," replied the ghost airily, "just observing things. How are things going on with you lately, anyway?"  
"First episode next week," grunted Maul. "Has to be the season finale. Just my Force-damned luck…"  
"Don't take it too harshly," the other advised. "You can take much time off after two episodes. I'm sure they won't kill you off so soon that the finale will be your last. Speaking of which, you have an unusually long lifespan, Maul."  
"Probably the longest surviving antagonist the company's got," grinned Maul. "Everyone thought I was dead in Phantom Management or whatever that stupid movie was, but guess what, Clone Wars, and now this. Surprise motherfuckers."

"Ah." The Inquisitor did not quite catch the meme, but he did see where Maul was saying. "Well, I hope that streak continues with the rat upstairs… Good luck next week then, I gotta go haunt Kanan."  
And he disappeared through the left wall.  
Maul resumed surfing the Holonet and browsing Forcebook – research about the Sith Temple had slipped out of his mind a long time ago – as he ran one hand unconsciously through his horns.

The next week, Mickey was displeased to hear that filming of the season finale had been postponed another week or so due to complaints of 'injured butt by Sith headbutt'. That was, at least, according to Ezra Bridger – who, after a thump and a loud "OUCH!" plus sounds of a grown male Zabrak running away rang through a certain Sith Temple, was found sitting innocently by an unhappy, undignified Kanan Jarrus who somehow found himself unable to sit down. 

* * *

Bonus:

At some point in the future/past/alternate/wibbly-wobbly timeline, Darth Vader was thinking.  
By some huff-chuff of his thought train, he was reminded that he weighed at least 120 kilograms (around 264 pounds).  
He put that thought in the mental locker labeled Things That Might Be Useful.  
Later on, Luke Skywalker found himself flattened under a stubborn Vader.  
"Lemmego, I can't breathe!" he wailed.  
"Not until you listen to me first," declared the Sith.  
"But-I'm-CHOKING!"  
"Would you rather it be the Force instead?"  
Luke shut up.

* * *

For those who have watched the Clone Wars, or at least seen depiction of some form of Clone Wars Maul and his brother, well, pssh. If a headbutt from Maul would hurt, imagine one from Savage Opress.

Whether the Grand Inquisitor's ghost is a Force Ghost or a regular one is up for you to decide!


	29. Complaints

Disclaimer: Ah. own nuthin' but this be a fanfic so ah hope ahm safe.

Background: Somewhere in the middle of Season 2 (geez, these backgrounds are getting more and more obscure, aren't they?)

Also a part was inspired by a Tumblr post saying 'No' is too formal and 'Nope' isn't right either but 'Nah' is just right.

* * *

It was Friday night.  
Agent Kallus, Darth Vader, Grand Moff Tarkin and the two Inquisitors stood hanging tiredly around in a bar in the Disney headquarters.  
Most people would be partying or at least having some fun at such a time, but these ones had spent all their energy hunting down Rebel scum and bothering innocent people.

"My back hurts," the Fifth Brother grumbled.  
"Scum of the earth..." muttered Kallus, no doubt referring to the Ghost crew as he wiped dust from his helmet. "You drink?"  
"Haven't decided yet," replied the Fifth Brother.  
"I can buy my own," retorted the Seventh Sister and Tarkin.  
Vader said nothing.

"Whatever floats your boat," sighed the agent and turned to the bartender who happened to be Donald Duck. "One drink."  
"What's the magic worrrd?"  
"One drink, _please._ " the words came out in a seething growl.  
A moment later Donald Duck handed him a Disney Soda.  
Kallus just glared. If looks could kill Donald Duck would be- no, he wouldn't be dead anyway. He never did.  
Kallus proceeded to make a snarky comment about the stupidity of child friendliness, but unfortunately no one heard it as his whole sentence was bleeped out.  
Tarkin, who had received another soda from Goofy, sent him a sympathetic look - probably the first and last piece of sympathy he would ever show to anyone.  
"On second thought... I think I'm fine," murmured the Seventh Sister, refusing to join the Miserable Soda Holders Club.  
Kallus just huffed and said nothing.

As the Inquisitors shuffled away idly to a corner to talk about lightsabers, Kallus turned to Vader.  
If he had a choice, he would talk to neither Tarkin nor Vader as they were equally frightening, but he somehow felt that at least Vader wouldn't lead the conversation into some complex manipulative plot laced with traps for everyone.

"Any luck with the Rebels?" _That came out shorter than supposed,_ he winced.  
"Nope." said Vader.  
 _That doesn't sound quite right,_ thought Vader.  
"No," he corrected himself.  
 _That's not quite it...  
_ "Nah," he corrected himself again.  
 _There we go.  
_ "Slimier than Hutt slither trails," he added scornfully.  
"Nearly caught them that one time, pure luck they escaped... No offence sir," finished Kallus hastily.  
"None taken," said Vader, though Tarkin glared at Kallus with a he-would-Force-Choke-you-here-and-now-if-he-wasnt-tired-already look.  
"Their leader is a Jedi,"  
"I know," Vader replied. "Though luckily he's not related to me, you know, in case it turns out he's some long lost family member to drag me back to the light side..." he trailed off.  
"What was that?" Tarkin interrupted sharply.  
"Nothing," Vader quickly replied.  
"No, that was a very long sentence you just said-"

But at that moment Donald Duck sprang up onto his counter, shaking a bell so hard that if it were a person body parts would have fallen off.  
"BEDTIME! NINE O' CLOCK, BEDTIME!"  
Both Kallus and Tarkin glared daggers at the unknowing duck for treating them like children - or like those disgusting old 2D fairies that went giggling by - but for once, at least, Vader was secretly relieved.

 _Well, that comversation was absolutely unhelpful,_ thought Kallus as he trudged across the corridors to his quarters, his can of soda still in his hand. _But at least I have day off tomorrow... while the Rebels don't. Ha!_

Smiling, he threw the soda can behind his shoulder, satisfied st the cracking sound it made as it collided with some background character's skull. 

* * *

My phone tried to write Donald Trump instead of Donald Duck.

Wonder what it would've been like if Trump was the bartender.

Probably some talk about building a wall between Coruscant and Tatooine.


	30. Disturbance in the Fandom

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Star Wars Rebels, Thrawn, and/or any other characters, and of course not Mickey Mouse, I wouldn't even dare.  
Background: 12 hours, 33 minutes and 47 seconds before they released the Season 3 trailer on YouTube.

Really excited for Season 3!

Ooofgh... this is about the shortest chapter so far, sorry guys.

* * *

It was not often, but sometimes, every once in a while, Kanan would make random predictions by quoting Obi-Wan Kenobi.

No, actually, wait, Ezra could remember him doing that only once.  
It was hiatus time after the Season 2 finale, when every character was 'enjoying' a nice little vacation.  
Mickey had called a meeting in order to announce the launch of the Season 3 trailer.  
After much unenthusiastic clapping and lots of groans, the room darkened and the video started playing.

They were about two minutes in, dramatic music started playing, and a silhouette of a person was shown onscreen... when Kanan suddenly heaved and collapsed onto the ground.  
"Kanan, what's wrong?" asked Ezra fearfully.  
"I... I..."  
"Master? Can you hear me?"  
"I felt..."  
"What did you sense, Master?"  
Kanan heaved and groaned:  
"I felt a great disturbance in the Force... as if millions of fans cried out in excitement..."

Ezra couldn't help rolling his eyes as he heard Thrawn's monologue drawling on in the trailer.  
"Alright Master, let's get you to the hospital wing. At least someone's happy about something."


	31. Very Short Meaningful Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything :'(  
Background: A bit before Hondo's appearance in the show.

* * *

Ezra saw a bunch of characters being herded into the Disney main office building.  
With a jolt, he recognized Hondo.  
"Hondo! I thought you were away pirating! What are you doing here?" he called out, but Hondo didn't hear him.  
"They're here," Mickey Mouse explained patiently behind his back, making him jump;

"So that the Clone Wars fans will have something to be nostalgic upon and shut up."


	32. Google Images

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, the 'anything' here including Disney, Star Wars Rebels, Twi'lek, Google Images and SWR characters.  
Background: Whenever you like.

ALSO NOTE: BE DISAPPOINTED. Because I had this great idea about this chapter but forgot it all and now we're stuck with one about Google Images.

* * *

"Ezra, how do you draw Twi'leks again?" called Sabine from the other end of the Ghost.  
"How should I know?" shouted back Ezra. "Ask Hera!"  
"Hera's not here, she's gone to buy meilooruns again!" yelled back Sabine.  
"Well then look up reference images or something, I can't draw a Jawa without making it look like a pumpkin!"  
"Alright then!"

Kanan, who was listening to this conversation, had a bad feeling about this.  
And in this world, whenever someone had a bad feeling about this or that, something bad always happened.  
Always.

"Sabine, word of advice-" Kanan began to speak up.  
"I think I'll use Google Images, thanks for the suggestion Ezra!"  
It was too late. The sound of typing was already leaking out of Sabine's quarters.  
 _Oh no,_ Kanan internally sighed (and screamed) and started counting down in his head.  
 _  
10...  
_ 9...  
8...  
7...

 **"AAAAAAAAAAAAH WTF!"  
** _There we go,_ he groaned.  
Then came a CRASH as Sabine's laptop went flying into the air, out of the window and into the endless beautiful plains of Lothal.  
 **"I GOOGLED TWI'LEK! FREAKING TWI'LEK! ONE WORD ONLY!"**

"Ezra," Kanan called cautiously.  
"Y-yes, Master?"

"The Force is telling me to abandon ship."

* * *

Sooooo I _didn't_ Google 'Twi'lek', no, not exactly. It was Doctor Who related...  
Anyway, looks like fandoms are always f-ed up despite their age.  
I WAS LOOKING FOR REFERENCES. FOR ART PURPOSES. ART.  
WHY.  
WHY.  
WHY.

You better hope the Doctor never sees that stuff or the next time Daleks invade Earth he might just let them be.


	33. Haircut (featuring Darth Vader)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Honestly I don't even know if they have graphics assistants for SWR. I do own some plaid shirts, though, which I absolutely LOVE.  
Background: Before they made the Season 3 trailer... which could be the day before the YouTube release OR months before that.

* * *

"Where's Ezra?" asked Hera.  
"In his room," grunted Zeb.  
"But he's been in there for two hours! He didn't even come out for lunch!"  
"I know."  
"What's he doing there?"  
"Sulking with his arms over his head, I just went to check, he slammed the door on me." Sabine said, casually butting in on the conversation.  
"Well now that's something..." Kanan muttered concernedly.  
Zeb chuckled.

 **THREE HOURS EARLIER...**

"What do you mean 'a haircut'?" demanded Ezra.  
"I mean 'a haircut," replied the graphics assistant placidly.  
"What haircut?" questioned Ezra, starting to get on edge.  
"Your haircut."  
"MY haircut?! MY HAIRCUT?!" Ezra looked shocked for a moment, but then he relaxed. "Hahaha you got me there. nice joke bro, but you coulda saved it for April Fools."  
"No it's not a joke Mr. Bridger, you need a haircut."

"...What?"  
"Mr. Mickey Mouse has demanded that you shave your head to match your appearance in the Season 3 trailer."  
"...What?"  
"Now if you'll come with me..."  
"..N-No... NO! I'm NOT cutting my hair!"  
"Mr. Bridger..."  
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"  
And Ezra darted away from the flustered assistant.

"What do you mean, 'he climbed the roof?"  
"It's like I said, sir, he- he just ran away, and I went after him, and he climbed to the top of the building!" stuttered the now agitated assistant.  
Mickey glared at the man, contemplating.  
Finally, he waved the man away before picking up a phone on his desk and dialing someone.  
"Vader? You there?"  
"Yes?" came the annoyed voice.  
"I need you and some stormtroopers."  
"What for?"  
"I want you to capture Ezra - ALIVE, don't pull any of your bullshit on me - and take him to the barber's."  
"That's it?!"  
"Don't 'that's it' me, Vader," growled the mouse... not like a mouse.  
"Alright, alright, where is he?" the other end sighed.  
"At the top of the main office building. now hurry up!"

Ten minutes later, Darth Vader and five stormtroopers - who were all extra grumpy because they missed their afternoon tea - stood at the bottom of the main office building, looking up at Ezra.  
"Come down here!" boomed Vader, glaring up from below.  
"No way!" Ezra protested, peeking down from above.  
"We can do this the easy way; you can come with us to the barbershop and get this over with, or you can be dragged there," growled Vader, "Final warning."  
"I'M NOT CUTTING MY HAIR!" Ezra bellowed before disappearing.  
Vader sighed exasperatedly.  
"Troops prepare for restraint," he said as he raised his hand and connected to the Force.

Soon, Ezra could be seen floating right above their heads.  
"NO FAIR!" he cried.  
"I warned you," muttered Vader as he unceremoniously dumped him on the ground before Force-confiscating his weapons. The stormtroopers promptly ran forward to grab him by the arms.  
"I'M- NOT - GOING IN THERE!" hollered Ezra.  
"Yes you are."  
"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" the Padawan hollered.  
Vader sighed - again. He seemed to be sighing a lot today.  
"Trooper. Tranquilizer."  
There was a small noise as the dart was shot and Ezra blacked out.

Thirty minutes later...  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Ezra's screams rang around the whole complex.  
Hera and Kanan, who had been passing by, immediately ran in.  
"What's the matter Ezra?!" cried Kanan, activating his lightsaber.  
"Who's trying to kill you now?!" cried Hera, pulling out her pistol.

They frantically looked around for the source of the threat, but only saw a trembling barber cowering against the opposite wall.  
"...Ezra?"  
The form of Ezra was crouched in a corner with both arms covering his head. "Don't talk to me," he murmured.  
"Ezra, what's the matter?" Hera tried again, more calmly this time. "You can tell us."  
"...They cut my hair. They. Cut. My. Hair."  
"That's it?"  
"That's it? THAT'S IT? I NEARLY DIED! MY HAIR IS MY LIFE!" screamed Ezra. "Oh but you wouldn't know, you haven't got any..." he scoffed before bolting out the door.  
"Well that was a bit rude," said Hera after a moment.  
"I know," agreed Kanan.

They returned to the ship only to find Sabine, Zeb and Chopper waiting nervously.  
"Oh, what's happened now?" grumbled Hera.  
"Um, thing is, you see, Ezra got a haircut..." started Zeb.  
"Yes yes we know."  
"Aaaand we might've laughed at him. Just a bit." finished Sabine.  
"You WHAT?" asked Kanan incredulously.  
"Hey, it was just friendly jabbing, he did look funny," the Lasat defended.  
"We honestly didn't expect him to run into his room and lock himself up," added Sabine.  
"We're sorry, we apologized to him but he wouldn't listen."  
"Look at what you've done," muttered Hera. "Well the best thing for us is to wait for him to calm down and come out of his own accord."

And that's how, around two hours later, Ezra was still in his room and the rest of the Ghost crew were still sitting around uncomfortably.  
And it wold continue this way for the next 10 hours, 5 minutes and 47 seconds before Ezra sneaked out for a bite and got caught by Chopper.

* * *

This is the version with Vader. I'll write one with the same scenario, but with Ahsoka instead of Vader, for the next chapter.


	34. Haircut (featuring Ahsoka Tano)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Honestly I don't even know if they have graphics assistants for SWR. I do own some plaid shirts, though, which I absolutely LOVE.  
Background: Before they made the Season 3 trailer... which could be the day before the YouTube release OR months before that.

* * *

"Where's Ezra?" asked Hera.  
"In his room," grunted Zeb.  
"But he's been in there for two hours! He didn't even come out for lunch!"  
"I know."  
"What's he doing there?"  
"Sulking with his arms over his head, I just went to check, he slammed the door on me." Sabine said, casually butting in on the conversation.  
"Well now that's something..." Kanan muttered concernedly.  
Zeb chuckled.

 **THREE HOURS EARLIER...**

"What do you mean 'a haircut'?" demanded Ezra.  
"I mean 'a haircut," replied the graphics assistant placidly.  
"What haircut?" questioned Ezra, starting to get on edge.  
"Your haircut."  
"MY haircut?! MY HAIRCUT?!" Ezra looked shocked for a moment, but then he relaxed. "Hahaha you got me there. nice joke bro, but you coulda saved it for April Fools."  
"No it's not a joke Mr. Bridger, you need a haircut."

"...What?"  
"Mr. Mickey Mouse has demanded that you shave your head to match your appearance in the Season 3 trailer."  
"...What?"  
"Now if you'll come with me..."  
"..N-No... NO! I'm NOT cutting my hair!"  
"Mr. Bridger..."  
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"  
And Ezra darted away from the flustered assistant.

"What do you mean, 'he climbed the roof?"  
"It's like I said, sir, he- he just ran away, and I went after him, and he climbed to the top of the building!" stuttered the now agitated assistant.  
Mickey glared at the man, contemplating.  
Finally, he waved the man away before picking up a phone on his desk and dialing someone.  
"Tano? You there?"  
"Yes?" a female voice replied warily.  
"I need you, and, uh, bring some of those Rebel troopers as well."  
"What for?"  
"I want you to capture Ezra and take him to the barber's."  
"Ezra as in Ezra Bridger?!"  
"Yes, yes, THE Ezra Bridger. no harms done, i just want you to... 'escort' him to the barbershop."  
"What... Can't he go alone?"  
"He won't, that's why I'm asking you. An employee tried and failed to persuade him. Now it's your turn."  
"Ah. I get it. Still a bit unexpected... but it's not like I'm busy right now... So, where is he, anyway?"  
"At the top of the main office building. Now hurry up!"  
"K bye."  
 _Can't be that bad_ , thought Ahsoka as she grabbed her equipment and trotted out of her room.

Ten minutes later, Ahsoka Tano and five soldiers stood at the bottom of the main office building, looking up at Ezra.  
"Come down, Ezra!" yelled Ahsoka up from below.  
"No way!" Ezra protested, peeking down from above.  
"It's just a haircut, why are you so mental about it anyway?" questioned Ahsoka. "Now come dwon here boy, it'll be all over in half an hour."  
"I SAID NO WAY!" Ezra bellowed before disappearing.  
The Jedi sighed exasperatedly.  
 _And I thought it couldn't be that bad._  
"You asked for it," she said as she raised her hand and connected to the Force.

Soon, Ezra could be seen floating right above their heads.  
"NO FAIR!" he cried.  
"Look, I'm sorry," said Ahsoka, shaking her head, "but you know that Mickey's not gonna leave any of us alone until you get your haircut."  
"I'M- NOT - GOING IN THERE!" hollered Ezra.  
"Ezra, please."  
"BUT MY HAIR! MY PRECIOUS HAIR!" the Padawan hollered.  
Ahsoka raised an eyebrow, then sighed.  
"Ezra Bridger, I'm really, really sorry for this."  
There was a small noise as a tranquilizer dart was shot and Ezra blacked out.

Thirty minutes later...  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Ezra's screams rang around the whole complex.  
Hera and Kanan, who had been passing by, immediately ran in.  
"What's the matter Ezra?!" cried Kanan, activating his lightsaber.  
"Who's trying to kill you now?!" cried Hera, pulling out her pistol.

They frantically looked around for the source of the threat, but only saw a trembling barber cowering against the opposite wall.  
"...Ezra?"  
The form of Ezra was crouched in a corner with both arms covering his head. "Don't talk to me," he murmured.  
"Ezra, what's the matter?" Hera tried again, more calmly this time. "You can tell us."  
"...They cut my hair. They. Cut. My. Hair."  
"That's it?"  
"That's it? THAT'S IT? I NEARLY DIED! MY HAIR IS MY LIFE!" screamed Ezra. "Oh but you wouldn't know, you haven't got any..." he scoffed before bolting out the door.  
"Well that was a bit rude," said Hera after a moment.  
"I know," agreed Kanan.

They returned to the ship only to find Sabine, Zeb and Chopper waiting nervously.  
"Oh, what's happened now?" grumbled Hera.  
"Um, thing is, you see, Ezra got a haircut..." started Zeb.  
"Yes yes we know."  
"Aaaand we might've laughed at him. Just a bit." finished Sabine.  
"You WHAT?" asked Kanan incredulously.  
"Hey, it was just friendly jabbing, he did look funny," the Lasat defended.  
"We honestly didn't expect him to run into his room and lock himself up," added Sabine.  
"We're sorry, we apologized to him but he wouldn't listen."  
"Look at what you've done," muttered Hera. "Well the best thing for us is to wait for him to calm down and come out of his own accord."

And that's how, around two hours later, Ezra was still in his room and the rest of the Ghost crew were still sitting around uncomfortably.  
And it wold continue this way for the next 10 hours, 5 minutes and 47 seconds before Ezra sneaked out for a bite and got caught by Chopper.

* * *

This is the version with Ahsoka. I wrote one with the same scenario, but with Darth Vader! You can read it in the former chapter!


	35. Fries

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Not Disney, not Star Wars, nope, nothing.  
Background: Any time in Season 2, before Maul's reveal. Probably.  
Inspired by me when I thought that if I was a Sith, I could probably save electricity by Force-frying my eggs.

Author's Rant:  
So I started watching Doctor Who like... two? three? months ago?and it has put me in an EMOTIONAL WRECK.  
But I have no regrets!1!11!

* * *

This is the story of how Ezra is currently running away from a group of angry Sith with a half-fried egg on his face.

So that morning, Ezra had been eating breakfast as usual, which was provided by Disney, also usual.  
But he didn't like how the eggs tasted.  
It was like someone had fried it instantly instead of taking some proper time with a frying pan.  
So were his fried potatoes.  
It had been like this for a few days.

Ezra decided to investigate.  
Mainly because he had nothing to do.  
He called it 'investigating'; everyone else called it 'being nosy'.

After breakfast, he went to a large board of a map showing where was what in the Disney building. According to the map, the kitchen was one floor below the cafeteria.  
So off he went. Sneaky sneak.  
He went to the emergency staircase first, but changed his mind and closed the door quickly when he saw two stormtroopers idly looking into their phones in there.  
Next, he went to the elevator; luckily, when it arrived, no one was in, so he could go downstairs without much trouble.  
No one ran into him on the way to the kitchen.

As he got closer, he heard some buzzing noises coming from the kitchen; the door was slightly ajar.  
Ezra crept closer to have a peek.

Maul, Darth Vader, the Inquisitors and the Emperor were standing at the cooking tables wearing Mickey Mouse aprons and electrocuting a bunch of eggs with Force Lightning.  
Ezra couldn't suppress a snigger.  
"Kfffkchkffkkk hehehe," he said.  
Now there were Maul, Darth Vader, the Inquisitor and the Emperor standing in the kitchen wearing Mickey Mouse aprons, no longer frying potatoes, and looking furious.  
"Oops," said Ezra as a freshly fried egg was thrown -SPLAT - straight in his face.

Soon, the entire company would hear as Ezra screamed ("AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH") running around the corridors and the Sith trampled after him.

Epilogue:  
A few days later, Ezra met Maul in the Sith temple.  
"You!" he yelled. "You were cooking in the kitchen!"  
"You!" Maul yelled. "You were spying on the kitchen!"  
"But why?" Ezra asked persistently. "What were you doing?"  
Maul glanced over his shoulder, and then said: "The mouse doesn't pay us much, so we had to work extra."  
Ezra didn't know how to react to this and so did Kanan and Ahsoka.  
The Inquisitors, however, looked uncomfortable.  
"Umm... let's fight?" said Ezra.


	36. Bendu

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 'nuff said. I also don't own Godzilla.  
Background: Around the time of the Season 3 trailer release.  
Author's Note: I'M JUST REEAALLYYYY EXCITED TOM BAKER'S VOICING THE BENDU AND AGFSDKFGASKDHG DOCTOR WHO ASDHFKASFGSDJHFGASGAD'GDF;GJKAHD; *CHOKES*

* * *

"Sabine, Sabine, we're gonna fight a... a thing this season! A big thing!"  
Ezra's yells echoed around the interior of the Ghost.  
"Now where'd you pick up that bantha poo?" Sabine questioned.  
"It was in the trailer! A big Godzilla thing!" Ezra kept screaming excitedly.  
"Ezra, I'm sure you saw it wrong..." commented Kanan.  
"No, I saw it right! You were there in front of it! Big cow thing!"

At this, the older Jedi became highly affronted.  
"First of all, Ezra," he started in an overture of a big oncoming lecture, "he's not an 'it'. He's a 'him'.  
"Secondly, he is called the Bendu and none of us are gonna fight him. Ever."  
"But Kaaanaaaan," Ezra whined. "That's boring."

"How dare you disgrace the Bendu! He is one who gives advice to the wisest of the Jedi!" countered Kanan.  
"But I thought we were gonna fight a giant monster," Ezra continued whining. "Giant monster battles are more exciting."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.  
Ezra went to answer it.  
"Hi there Ezra," said a tall man with crazy googly eyes, hair so messed up it had to hold a few of the universe's secrets and a ridiculously long scarf, in a British accent. "I heard you were talking shit."  
"Who are you?"  
"I'm the Doc- the Bendu."  
"But you're a- a person..."  
"Oh dear, wrong time, wrong form," the man shrugged nonchalantly.  
"W-what?!"  
But the man was already gone.

"Kanan, who was that?" asked Ezra, absolutely puzzled.  
"No idea. But I'm still upset at you for insulting the Bendu, so go clean your room," shot back a Kanan, not-so-puzzled.  
"Ugh, o-kayyyy," grumbled Ezra, stil very much puzzled and not happy at all.

The mystery of the man was, sadly, never solved.

* * *

Yep, big Doctor Who reference/cameo thing in there.  
Actually, Four's hair is not THAT big; it probably holds like 2 or 3 secrets at most.  
On the other hand, Six's hair definitely holds at least 100 secrets and the answer to life and death.


	37. Thrawn Thrawn? THRAWN

Disclaimer: I don't own Thrawn OR Star Wars Rebels. Disney owns everything. They own your soul, your family, your cow, your drums, your cereal! BOO!

...Sorry. Still a bit soon for Halloween, ain't it?

Background: Season 3 trailer (again!)

* * *

"Okay, Mr. Thrawn, speak what you must."  
The director gestured a cue as other workmen slowly adjusted the lights so that the room brightened slowly, revealing Thrawn's silhouette and then his features.

"To defeat an enemy you must know them," Thrawn started narrating.  
"Not simply their battle tactics, but their history, philosophy, art..."  
"Okay, good-" the director started to whisper, but then was cut off.  
"Math..."  
"What?"  
"Geology, social studies..."  
"What is going on?" the filming crew started whispering to one another.  
"Music, P.E., literature..."  
"Mr. Thrawn?"  
Meanwhile the room just kept on getting brighter since the workforce hadn't received any new orders.  
"Industrial Arts, Home Economics, science..." Thrawn continued, squinting.  
"Mr. Thrawn, I think that's enough-" the director tried cutting in again, squinting also.  
"Spanish..."

Finally,  
" _Stop recording_ " hissed the director. "Mr. Thrawn, thank you very much but we really don't think Spanish is that important when it comes to understanding your enemies."  
"What even IS Spanish to a Lothal alien, anyway?" muttered one of the workmen.  
"What do you mean, Spanish isn't important?" Thrawn raised a blue eyebrow incredulously.  
"I-"  
"Of course it's important! As are all the others! Do you realize how important Graphic Design is when facing an unknown enemy?" the blue admiral shot back.  
"As is Geography, Dance, Product design,..." he went on to list a bunch of different school subjects.

An hour later, the director was desperately pleading for Thrawn to stop, trotting behind him as he paced around the room reciting obscure school subjects and how every single one of them was important.  
"..., Management, Algebra, Macroeconomics, ..."  
"Man, I hate Algebra..." moaned an employee somewhere in the background.  
"Dammit," grumbled someone else, further back in the background.  
"I failed Macroeconomics."

* * *

I #$&ING HATE HISTORY  
HOW THE %^#$& #$ AM I SUPPOSED TO MEMORIZE ALL THAT HAPPENED IN 4.5 BILLION/SIX MILLION/SIX THOUSAND YEARS VARYING ON YOUR VIEWPOINT


	38. Out of Ideas (I am so, so sorry)

(sigh) I seem to be taking a lot of hiatuses in this fanfic, huh?

Or is it hiati? Hiatusi?

Eh, who cares.

* * *

Anyway, it's as the title said. I have run out of ideas for this fanfic. I am so sorry to keep you waiting.

But plase don't leave now because **IT'S NOT OVER.**

Based on current situations, I'd say I would have to wait for Season 3 to be out before writing any new chapters, but who knows?  
I might get a brilliantly hilarious idea of one of the old episodes one day, like a miracle.

But for now, yes I am **out of ideas** and I will cease writing indefinitely until inspiration strikes.

HOWEVER, I'll always be logging in often, and possibly working on some oother fanfics as well.

 **SO, if you have any ideas about another chapter of SWR Shorts, like something you found funny or nonsensical in a SWR episode, please don't hesitate to comment it in the Reviews!**

I'll be constantly checking my account and if I figure I could write about one of your ideas, then I definitely **will** (and credit you).  
 **Remember, this fanfic won't end until the show itself is finished** , done, ended, over, finite, whatever!

Meanwhile, thank you for all your support. I honestly never thought I would get 90+ reviews!

You guys are fantastic!

P.S. As I said, I'm out of ideas for this fanfic, but it doesn't mean I won't be active at all.

For now, if you know a thing or two about Doctor Who and would care for something funny to read, there's a brand new crackfic oneshot on my profile! It should keep you occupied for like 2 minutes.


	39. Educational

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels.

Background: Eh. Any episode probably.

Idea provided by Rebels-Lover. Credit goes to you, Rebels-Lover!

* * *

One day, Mickey Mouse announced that the show would be getting "more educational" from now on.  
No one knew what he meant by that.  
Until the next episode happened.

Ezra, Kanan and the rest of the team were raiding an Imperial outpost for some supplies.  
"This is going well," Sabine remarked as she shot down another stormtrooper. "We just have to pass one more door and then we can take the supply crates."  
"I'll clear the way," Ezra yelled as he ran towards the door.  
But he was stopped by an annoying orange cartoon bird.  
"What is 1+2?" it asked in an annoying high-pitched voice.

"What?"  
Ezra was confused more than he'd ever been before.  
"This is a part of an educational improvement program applied to Star Wars Rebels! now, what is 1+2?" the bird repeated without a blink, its annoying voice happy as ever.  
"Oh. Ummm... 3," Ezra answered uncertainly, hoping it was not a trap.  
"Correct! You gained entry!" and the orange bird disappeared with a pop.  
 _What was that about?_ Ezra thought as he entered the doorway and took care of a couple of stormtroopers in there. _Ah, well, at least it wasn't hostile.  
_  
But he was annoyed once again when he reached for the supply crates only to have the bird pop up and block his path.  
"What is 37-4?" it asked.  
"33, now get outta my way!" Ezra yelled. And it did.

After getting those supply crates (fortunately the bird did not pop up when carrying them back out), the Ghost crew dragged a crate each to their ship.  
However, victory turned to irksomeness as the orange bird blocked the main hatch.  
"What is 4 multiplied by 30?" it asked this time.  
"Hold on," Hera said, doing some quick thinking with her head. "120," she answered.  
"Correct! You passed the first level!" it chirped.  
"'First level'? Does that mean there's a second?" Kanan asked worriedly, but it was already gone.  
"I hope not," muttered Zeb.

But Zeb's (and everyone's) hopes were dashed when the Ghost was trying to get out of the planet's atmosphere.  
"What is 432 divided by 8?" it asked, somehow stopping the spaceship (which was thousands of times bigger than itself) from going anywhere else.  
"How is it doing that?!" Ezra yelled exasperatedly.  
"54," Hera answered quickly. "Now please let us go. The Imperials would have been alerted by now."  
"Nope!"  
"What?!"  
"You passed the math section! Into the world of science we go!"  
"What?!"  
"Do not worry, for my cousin is helping the Imperials with their education levels as well!" the bird chirped so happily that anyone would have gotten the urge to strangle it at first sight.

Meanwhile, the departure of an Imperial shuttle was put on hold by a small blue bird.  
"What part of a cell is found in plant cells but not in animal ones?" it was asking.  
"WHO CARES, JUST LET US PASS!" a stormtrooper was screaming.  
"SOMEONE SHOOT THAT BIRD!" said another.  
There was the red glow of a blaster fire, but to everyone's dismay the bird was as alive as ever; it was as if the bullet had passed straight through it.  
"Hang on!" an officer from the intel department ran out into the shuttle bay. "The chloroplast!"  
"Correct," the blue bird chirped, and disappeared.  
The stormtroopers stared, wide-eyed (though no one could see their wide eyes), before preparing to take off at last.  
"I never appreciated the intel lot," one of them said, "but I think I should from now on."

Back in the Ghost, Chopper was filing through unused, virtually cobwebbed parts of the Holonet to find the answer to "In what year did Louis XIII become King of France?" while the rest glared as fiercely as they could.  
Finally, the droid got the result - and more importantly, a report that Imperial vessels were approaching fast.  
"1610!" Sabine yelled, translating the droid's bleeping. "Now LET. US. GO. or we'll be caught!"  
"Correct," the bird squawked.  
However, the crew's relieved faces turned into ones of rage - like the ones you see in memes - when the bird added, "One very final last question to go!"  
"What?!"  
"You've been doing great so far, you passed -"  
"JUST GIVE US THE DAMN QUESTION ALREADY THEN!"  
"Alright. Ahem," it cleared its little throat.

"In the complex plane, the horizontal axis is called the _real axis_ and the vertical axis is called the _imaginary axis_. The complex number _a_ + _bi_ graphed in the complex plane is comparable to the point ( _a_ , _b_ ) graphed in the standard ( _x_ , _y_ ) coordinate plane. The _modulus_ of the complex number _a_ \+ _bi_ is given by the square root of ( _a_ _²_ \+ _b_ _²_ ). Which of the complex numbers _z1_ , _z2_ , _z3_ , _z4_ and _z5_ below can be used to salvage the soul of Donald Duck if all trangles existing in the Plains of Lothal are purple and the mass of the insignia badge of an Imperial Grand Admiral is one quarter of that of an average can of strawberry juice?"

Everyone was speechless for a moment.

Then, Ezra burst out:  
" _ **REALLY, DISNEY?!**_ "

* * *

The annoying birds are a one-time creation of mine. Any resemblance to actual characters is entirely coincidental.

The last math problem comes from this webpage. I tweaked the end parts a bit (I mean, a lot).

blog, prepscholar, com/21-hardest-act-math-problems

(I had to turn the dots into commas because would automatically delete them otherwise.)

Also, now that Season 3 is out and about, I will begin writing again also! :D


	40. Oh No

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels. Disney does. One scene here has dialogue copied from the episode (and Journey's End, a Doctor Who episode).

Background: Part 1 of the Season 3 premiere

WOOO GUYS IT'S OUT!

And as the 40th Chapter "special" (no, not really special) I give you...

This.

Enjoy.

* * *

Hera was slightly worried.  
So was Sabine, Zeb, Rex and Chopper.  
Ever since finding a weird red miniature pyramid in an abandoned temple, Ezra had changed.

Currently they were peeking out from behind a corner as Ezra slaughtered wave after wave of stormtroopers.  
"Take that, peasant!" he yelled as he savagely kicked a trooper in the belly and then sliced another in half.  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Zeb whispered to the rest.  
"DIE!" Ezra yelled from some 100 feet (30 meters) away, murdering yet another stormtrooper.  
"Like what, Ezra definitely needing a visit to the psychotherapy clinic?"  
"I WILL MAKE YOU SHRIEK IN NEVERENDING AGONY WHILE I BATHE IN YOUR BLOOD!" came Ezra's voice.  
"Yep, definitely," murmured a disturbed Hera.  
"We're all thinking it," whispered Rex.

Later, Hera was walking past Ezra's room in the Ghost and saw that it was too dark.  
"Spector 6, why don't you brighten up your room a little? You're being all dark these days," she advised.  
"No, this darkness represents who I am!" came Ezra's argument from within.  
"You didn't use to be like that. I hope it's okay whatever you're suffering from," Hera called out tentatively.  
"NO, THIS IS WHO I TRULY AM, AND IT'S NOT A PHASE!" Ezra slammed the door in the Twi'lek captain's face.  
Hera stood rooted to the spot, speechless.  
"...Did I say something wrong?" she asked a passing-by Sabine.  
"You shouldn't have talked to him at all," she suggested, rather unhelpfully.  
 _Maybe I should go and try to talk to Kanan again_ , Hera thought.

Meanwhile, Ezra sat shrouded by darkness in his corner of his room, talking to the Sith Holocron.  
"They never would have succeeded without me! Don't they know that?"  
"Your anger gives you strength, gives you focus. You can see things clearly your friends cannot. Now, what else do you desire?"  
"Electrical energy, Miss Tyler."  
"...What did you call me?" the Holocron was confused.  
"Every atom in existence is bound by an electrical field. The Reality bomb cancels it out. Structure falls apart."  
"...What?"  
"Across the entire universe. Never stopping, never faltering, never fading. People and planets and stars will become dust, and the dust will become atoms, and the atoms will become nothing." Ezra rasped.  
"What? That escalated quickly..." the Holocron was _very_ confused.  
"And the wavelength will continue, breaking through the Rift at the heart of the Medusa Cascade into every dimension, every parallel, every single corner of creation. This is my ultimate victory, Doctor! The destruction of reality itself!"  
"Ooookayyy... I'm weirded out. Nope. Not gonna stay. Bye."  
And the Holocron shut itself down.

"Kanan, please listen, we need your help. Ezra is going through a phase-"  
"It's not a phase, Hera, leave me alone to lament my fate in peace!"  
"I wasn't even talking about you-"  
"Woe is me!"

"Hello, I just felt you mentally facepalming and that is rude!"  
 _Oh great I can't even do a mental facepalm now_ , she thought.  
"I heard that!"  
"You know what, I'll- I'll just leave you alone to, er, lament your fate or... whatever it is that you do."  
"Yes, I recommend you do that."  
With that, Hera turned around and headed back into the Ghost, Kanan's yells of "Woe is me! I am so miserable!" echoing behind her back.  
"What did he say?" Sabine asked hopefully.  
Without a word, Hera pointed to behind her back, where Kanan's misery could still be heard floating in the air.  
"Oh. Okay." Disappointed, Sabine returned to contemplating her new hair.  
"I think your hair is horrible," commented Hera. "It looks like an old lady's white hair."  
"Does not!" came the irritated reply.  
"Does too!"  
"Zeb already said so and I don't need you to support his argument!"  
"Ha, I told you Hera would think so too!" came Zeb's gleeful taunting from somewhere inside the ship.  
"Shut up, all of you, so I can brood in silence!" shouted Ezra from his room.

That evening, Hera sat in the pilot's seat, rambling to Chopper - the only one without enough problems of his own.  
"When did it all go wrong? What did I do to deserve this?" she groaned.  
Chopper emitted a string of bleeps, which translated into "It's not your fault. I just think Kanan and Ezra are having some issues."  
 _When was your first clue?_ Hera snorted.

* * *

(But seriously. I almost freaked out when I did a death count and I was at 17-ish, only 6 minutes into the episode.  
Not a knock-out count or a trip-over count.  
A death count.  
A DEATH COUNT, GUYS.)

I feel like I forgot to do a proper thank-you in the last chapter.  
Sooo... Thank you for sticking with me, putting up with all these random hiatuses, and reading!  
When I first started this story, I thought maybe I would write five or six chapters then quit, and I'd be lucky to have more than two reviews...  
But I'm already at my 40th Chapter and approaching 100 reviews! I can't believe it! All thanks to you guys!  
Every single one of you is awesome and you deserve to have an awesome day.  
May the Force be with you!


	41. Internet Explorer

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels. Disney owns it. And I do not own Internet Explorer, either. Microsoft owns it.

Background: Season 3 premiere

Trivia: I actually experienced this a few times. My LAN was plugged in but IE said Internet connection was lost and I had to spend half an hour under the desk sifting through cables and going "WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU"

Also, in Star Wars, Imperials tend to have British accents while Rebels tend to have American ones. But not always. In here, I gave Kallus an American linguistic identity because hell, why not. His voice actor's American.

And finally, congratulations to The Secret Cinnamon for the 100th review!

* * *

"Contact Grand Admiral Thrawn immediately," ordered Governor Pryce.  
They had cornered the group of Rebels.  
"Yes governor," said an officer and walked out of the room to fiddle with some panels and buttons and whatsits.  
Minutes passed.  
And minutes more.  
Finally, "What's taking so long?" asked Governor Pryce.  
"I'll go check," suggested Agent Kallus and walked out to find the officer who was supposed to contact Thrawn.

"There you are," he said after a moment's search and spotting the officer's feet sticking out from under a control panel. "The Governor inquires why it is taking so long for you to- what are you doing, anyway?"  
"Connection's lost," the officer said, sliding back out with a face covered in dust and soot. "I'm checking all the cables but the browser says Internet Unavaiable."  
He coughed and crawled back under.  
"What browser?" asked Kallus.  
"Internet Explorer, sir," came the slightly muffled reply.  
"What?! Why are we using that?!"  
"It's a new ship and-" there was a series of coughs after which the officer decided to crawl back out, face covered in even more dust, "the tech department hasn't installed another browser yet."

Kallus stood there for a moment, appalled, but he regained his train of thought quickly.  
"You keep checking those cables," he ordered. "I'll see what I can do via the user interface."  
"Yes sir."  
The agent had a hard time restraining himself from smashing the whole thing, screen and cables and all, but he (and the dusty officer) finally got the Internet to work.  
After finding Thrawn on Space Skype and putting him through so that his hologram would pop up at the desired place, he went back to Governor Pryce.

"We have the admiral," he reported.  
 _And you better have something good to talk about with him or I'll shove those stupid LAN cables down someone's throat_ , he bit back.  
"Put him through," ordered Pryce.  
A blue hologram of the Grand Admiral (not that it made much difference since he was already blue) showed up.  
"Update me on your progress, Governor," drawled Thrawn.

"The situation is proceeding much as you anticipated. The Rebel fleet composed of three star cruisers have come to the rescue."  
 _It's 'has', not 'have'_ , Kallus swallowed the words in his mouth.  
"That is not the Rebel fleet," Thrawn was saying. "Br- off- let-"  
Suddenly the hologram was filled with static.  
"Grand Admiral?" We are losing connection," called out Governor Pryce.  
Thrawn seemed to be checking his device for a moment, then said something, but not a single word was recognizable through all the static.  
"Are you receiving, Grand Admiral?" Pryce called out again, a little more loudly this time.  
Thrawn, realizing that he could receive them perfectly well but it wasn't so the other way round, pointed to his device, then made an OK sign with his hand, then pointed to them, then made an X sign with his arms.

"I think he says something's wrong with our side of the transmission," said Kallus.  
"I know, I know," the Governor snapped. "Go check the connection again. I will try to find another way to communicate, as we do not have much time."  
She turned back to face Thrawn. "Excuse me, my apologies. Perhaps you happen to carry a handheld transmitter?"  
A handheld transmitter was basically a cell phone.  
Thrawn shook his head.  
"You don't?" Pryce asked surprisedly.  
The Grand Admiral seemed to gesture _Don't hang up_ , left the hologram's line of vision for a while, then returned with some paper.  
The Governor watched him hastily scribble something down on one of the sheets (he took one of the pens from his uniform and Kallus went "Oh so that's what they're for"), then hold it up for her to see.  
It read:  
 _I HAVE A HANDHELD TRANSMITTER BUT IT DOESN'T TRANSMIT TO WHERE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW._

"...Ah."  
Just then, yet another Imperial officer ran in and said "Governor, the rebel fleet is attempting to escape!"  
Pryce looked to the holocommunicator in a gesture of "What should we do?" and saw that Thrawn had already written _ABOUT THOSE REBELS..._  
and was scribbling yet another message.  
She watched as the Chiss finally held up a paper sheet full of text.  
It read: _THAT IS NOT THE REBEL FLEET. BREAK OFF THE ATTACK AND ALLOW THEM TO ESCAPE WITH THEIR MEAGRE REWARD.  
_  
"It's spelled MEAGER," Kallus piped in.  
 _MEAGRE_ , wrote back Thrawn, annoyed.  
"Where I come from, MEAGER is the right spelling," responded the ISB agent.  
 _WELL WHERE_ I _COME FROM, IT'S_ MEAGRE _._  
"Then you-"  
"One more word and I'll call you a Rebel sympathizer." threatened Governor Pryce, finally managing to shut Kallus up. He went to sulk in a corner.  
 _RIGHT THEN._ Thrawn wrote. _DO AS I SAID._  
"Yes, Grand Admiral."  
 _AND GET THAT INTERNET CONNECTION FIXED. MY ARMS ARE STARTING TO HURT._  
"Yes, of course."

And she hung off, briskly walking off to relay Thrawn's orders;  
but not before she glared fiercely at the small Internet Explorer icon flashing innocently on the background screen of the holocommunicator.  
 _It's a miracle we even made it through the conversation_ , she thought savagely.


	42. BENDU AGAIN

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Star Wars Rebels. They're owned by BBC and Disney, respectively.

Background: Season 3 premiere (again...)

* * *

The creature was talking.  
Kanan was blind and could not see, though he could feel that it was huge.  
But he had no idea what it looked like.  
Thing is, the creature could use the Force.  
And right now the creature was talking to him.

"I'm the one in the middle, the Bendu. What do you call yourself?" said the creature.  
"I am Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight." replied Kanan.  
"You carry conflict with you, Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight."

Kanan was silent for a while.  
Should he bring up the subject of the Holocron to this... someone... that he had just met?

"Would you like a jellybaby?"  
 _What?  
_ Kanan cocked his head.

There was a rustling of paper and the air moved as if something big was moving towards him.  
"Would you like a jellybaby?" came the question again.  
"What?"  
"They're good."

Some ten yards away, two space spiders were watching.  
"Say, that scarf was ridiculous five years ago and it looks ridiculous now," said one called Sim.  
"I think it's grown in length," said another called Tim.  
"You know what, I think it's time for dinner," said Sim.  
"Let's go home," said Tim.  
And they scuttled away.

Leaving behind the huge yak-like creature wearing a gigantic hat and a monstrous scarf persistently offering jellybabies the size of actual babies to a blind and confused Jedi.


	43. Art Department

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Wars Rebels, or Disney.  
Background: Any episode before Ezra's new hair happened

* * *

Ezra, Kanan, Zeb and Sabine were crouching silently on a rooftop in a side street somewhere on Lothal.  
They were waiting for some Imperial operators (or officers, they did not know for sure) who carried information chips (or holopads, they weren't sure about this either) that they planned to steal.  
Thing is, they did not know who those Imperials were going to be, or what they would look like. So the general plan was to just attack anyone in an Imperial uniform who seemed to be carrying something.  
"This is a dumb plan," Kanan complained. "It's like walking up to the Emperor and saying 'Here I am, a Rebel."  
"No, it's not," said Ezra. "We know there are at least ten information chips or pads, and I don't think many people can carry that many devices in their pockets. So we wait for, say, an Imperial officer-"  
"Or Imperial officers-" chirped in Sabine-  
"-with a bag." finished Ezra.  
"Really, are you kidding me? _Imperial officers with bags_?" scoffed Zeb.  
Just then, two Imperial officers with bags walked right into the side street.

"See?" said Ezra teasingly as they silently climbed down and hid behind dustbins.  
"Alright, alright," grumbled Zeb.  
"Those bags look a bit funny..." started Sabine.  
"Shh!" interfered Kanan.

Truth is, the bags _were_ a little funny.  
One of them had a strap slung across her ("They're girls?" said Ezra. "SHH" hissed Kanan.) shoulder, one that was connected to a large cylindrical container.  
("That looks fit to be a gun case than anything else," murmured Zeb concernedly.)  
The other had a smaller sort of pouch-bag thing with odd edges poking out against the fabric, slung across in likely fashion.  
"That must be the datapads," whispered Ezra. "Let's go!"

" _I_ lead this team," hissed Kanan as he hastily pulled Ezra back by the arm. "Not now."

The officers took a couple more steps towards them.  
"Now!" Kanan shouted and shot up from behind the bins.  
"Hands up! Drop your weapons!"  
The rest of the team followed suit, pointing their weapons at the Imperials.  
"Hand over the information!"

"What?" was the immediate response.  
"What part of 'hands up, drop your weapons and hand over the info' do you not understand?" growled Zeb.  
"Er.. the 'drop your weapons' part?" said the officer on the left.  
"And the info... thing... part," put in the officer on the right.

"You know full well what we are talking about," Ezra said as he took a step forward.  
"No, Ezra, stop being a dipshit and let me handle this," muttered Kanan.  
"What?"  
"I mean, I'd better talk to them," Kanan covered up hastily. "Empty your bags." he ordered the now very confused officers.  
"What? Why?"  
"Empty your bags and pockets or we shoot!" threatened Sabine.

"Okay, okay, jeez..."  
" _I told you we should carry guns but you didn't listen did you!_ " hissed an officer to her companion.  
"Who the hell would want to attack _us_?" she hissed back, but unfortunately the Ghost crew did not hear any of this.

They did as they were told, scowling, and a minute later, on the ground was a pile of... objects that were definitely not data chips.  
"What is this?" frowned Ezra.  
"It's a _brush_ ," said one of the officers, rolling her eyes.  
Also on the ground were several rolls of paper, paint, brushes, old cloth, etc.  
Sabine frowned.  
"What the hell do you guys do?" she asked.  
"Well _duh_ ," said the other officer, "We're from the art department. Who do you think draws all those propaganda posters?" and she gestured around the side street, whose walls were covered with old, falling-apart posters showing things like cartoon TIE fighters and phrases like 'ENLIST TODAY'.  
"We were told to renew the posters in this area, so we came and then, like, _who_ the _hell_ are you." chimed in her partner.  
"Waaaiiiit a minute..." they frowned. "Who _are_ you?"

"I think we picked the wrong target," Ezra hissed out of the corner of his mouth.  
"We totally screwed up," Kanan replied quietly. "Let's get out of here."  
"Uh, we're, no one! Sorry for intruding, I thought you were, uh, rebel scum or, something, ha ha, gotta go, real sorry, bye!" yelled Ezra as they sprinted out of sight.  
" _Rebel scum?_ " came the incredulous voice.  
"Yeah, yeah, I must be blind or, ahaha, real tired day for me, reeeaaally bad mistake, hahaha..." he stuttered as they climbed the pipes and up the roofs again to never see those two again.

"Say, what was that about?" said the Propaganda Arts Subdepartment Junior Assisstant.  
"No idea," replied the Senior Assisstant of the same department. "Screw them, let's pick up the paint before they leak."

* * *

I actually have this little headcanon that the Empire has a tiny propaganda department on each planet, comprised of five members or so, and all they do is draw posters and hang them up on streets.


	44. Mosquitos

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars Rebels or Disney. I also do not have the power to eliminate mosquitoes at will even though I wish so.  
Background: Any episode that didn't get too serious.. maybe somewhere around the meiloorun episode. Oh yeah, probably in Season 1.

I F #$ING HATE MOSQUITOES  
THEY ARE LITTLE ITCH CREATING SOUL SUCKERS FROM THE STINKING DEPTHS OF HELL AND EVEN THE DEVIL DENIES HAVING CREATED THEM

* * *

It was the middle of the night.  
The Ghost hip sat peacefully in the plains of Lothal, a gentle summer breeze swaying the grass around it.  
Somewhere, a lost Loth-cat's yowl could be heard, then it died out.  
The lost Loth-cat probably got un-lost.

Everything was quiet.  
Relatively.

The Ghost was almost as quiet, maybe save the sound of Zeb snoring.  
For the first time in days, Hera was in for a nice night's sleep.  
There had been a heat wave, but today it went away, and now the nights of Lothal were perfect for sleeping comfortably.  
The Twi'lek captain snuggled into her bunk, punched her pillow into a likeable shape, and laid down.

Minutes passed.  
She was almost asleep when she heard a buzz somewhere.  
A low yet loud and irritating buzz.  
 _Damn speeder bikes_ , she thought, rolling over, hoping whoever the hell was riding those bikes would go away.  
They didn't.  
 _Bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt bzzt  
_ " _Shut up_ ," she mumbled, clamping her pillow over her ears.  
 ** _  
CRASH  
_**  
She opened her eyes.

Jumping up, grabbing a pistol and kicking open the door, she yelled "Who is it?!"  
Zeb and Sabine looked out from their quarters as well, hair and fur ruffled.  
"What's happening?" Sabine asked sleepily.  
"There was a crash," Hera said.  
"It came from Ezra's room," mumbled Zeb. "Nobody broke in. I'm going back to sleep."

Without another word, Hera ran over and kicked open the door to Ezra's quarters.  
The sight that met her eyes made her feel very weird.  
It was as if she was relieved, but at the same time feeling stupid and confused, and a feeling of not being sure if it was her or them that was stupid, plus a growing annoyance, all that at the same time with the emotion-that-causes-the-one-eyebrow-up-one-eyebrow-down face.

The room was half burnt; there were lightsaber slashes everywhere.  
Bedsheets and miscellaneous objects littered the floor, Ezra was on top of the bunk bed trying to reach a certain spot on the ceiling with his lightsaber and Kanan was standing right under the same spot, likewise trying to reach it.

"What are you doing?!" Hera shouted.  
The Jedi and Padawan jumped.  
"Dammit Hera, we missed it again!" Kanan said angrily.  
"Missed what?" Sabine had come to watch.

Instead of replying, Ezra yelled "THERE IT IS!"  
"GET IT!" jumped Kanan.  
"Get what?"  
"THIS-" Ezra jumped up with his lightsaber, punching a hole in the ceiling much to Hera's displeasure-  
"FORCE-" Kanan dived face first into a wall-  
"DAMNED-" Ezra waved his lightsaber at something, then proceeded to topple off the bunk bed-  
"MOSQUITO!" Kanan finished, slashing at the wall, much to Hera's displeasure for the second time.

"GOT IT!" Kanan yelled in triumph as he slashed at thin air for the umpteenth time and a tiny, truly minuscule ball of ash fell to his feet.  
"YAY!" yelled Ezra in celebration and together they jumped around the (destroyed) room in excitement.  
"...okay, I regret not watching this sooner." Zeb had come to watch as well.

"What was that about?!" Hera asked angrily once the Force-wielders calmed down.  
"Well... you see..." Ezra started. "It makes sense in my head but to put it into speech..."  
"It's a bit awkward..." added Kanan.  
"Just get to the point." snapped Hera.  
"It was a mosquito."  
"..." Hera raised her eyebrows. "What?"  
Sabine was trying very hard not to laugh in the background.

"Well, you see, I was trying to sleep and there was this mosquito in my room so I tried to use my lightsaber to catch it, but it flew off into Kanan's room and then _he_ tried to lightsaber it, and then it flew back into my room, and then..." trailed off Ezra.  
"Let's just say that we were both very determined to catch the thing." finished Kanan.  
"...Ah." was all Hera could say.  
Sabine and Zeb were now rolling around on the floor, laughing their sides off.

After sitting silently for a while, Hera wordlessly rose from her seat and went back to her room, shutting the door behind her.  
Ezra and Kanan looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to sleep.

The next morning, Hera was nowhere to be seen.  
Instead, there was a note on the table.  
It said:

 _I'm not gonna wake up until tomorrow._

 _You fix that room, Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger, or face the consequences._

 _Hera out._


	45. The Inquisitor's Ghost

A small flashback to Chapter 28 when the ghost of the Grand Inquisitor said he had to go haunt Kanan.

Disclaimer: (Insert perfect disclaimer here)

* * *

Kanan was enjoying a nice holiday after the Season 2 finale.  
His eyes had been blinded, so now he had to wear a mask, because for some reason the practice of wearing a mask that covers half your face and going blind was totally relevant.  
But he was a Jedi so he had no problem sipping his cup of coffee.

Just then, he felt a presence enter his room.  
Of course, he was blind, but that doesn't erase the fact that the ghost of the Grand Inquisitor strutted right through the wall, wearing a smug yet disgusted expression.  
"Who's there?" Kanan called out.  
"Your conscience has come to haunt you, coward..." the ghost whispered.  
"Oh, it's YOU again."  
"Yes, it's me, who did you expect?"  
"Anyone else." Kanan tried to take another sip of coffee, but he ended up spilling the lot on himself because the Inquisitor's ghost chose that moment to walk right through him, which sent shivers - VERY COLD shivers - through his spine.  
"Well, too bad, because no one gives a shit about you during the hiatus."  
This was not entirely true, as the fandom, in fact, was going crazy with speculations, but whatever.  
"So you took a lightsaber to the face and survived. How's that for bantha poo," spat the Inquisitor.  
"Shut up."

"Kanan, Kanan, little Kanan, he hid behind the Disney shields to never come out," sang the Grand Inquisitor.  
"Dammit" said Kanan as he couldn't really deny the existence of the giant blue metallic bubble stamped with the Disney logo that surrounded everything within a 50-feet radius of himself.  
"Who's a little pussycat shivering behind the plot shields? Kanan is, Kanan is," the ghost went on mercilessly.  
"OH SHUT UP"  
"Oh look, I'm a blind Jedi who's not really a Jedi nor really blind, because I can 'see with the Force', pity me anyway."  
Kanan felt an action figure of himself shoved into his face because either Disney ghosts could lift inanimate objects or this particular ghost could use the Force.  
(Where had that action figure come from? Oh, yeah, he remembered seeing one under his bed... Ugh, the dust.)  
"Go away," he grumbled.  
"You're so dumb you didn't even say anything at your moment of victory."  
"No, I'm not! I had something to say!"  
"Then what did you want to say?"  
"Um..."

 _Two hours later...  
_  
"Kanan my-face-should've-been-chopped-off Jarrus, your emo apprentice is going places, your team is getting owned by a blue guy in a white cardigan whose full name is literally _Mitth'raw'nuruodo-_ "  
"I am offended!" came Grand Admiral Thrawn's annoyed voice from some other part of the building.  
"PLEASE JUST FUCK OFF!" screamed Kanan.  
"Oh, losing your temper already, and you call yourself a Jedi?"  
"ASDHFGASDKHSG"


	46. Dodo Dinosaurs

Disclaimer: *standard disclaimer of planet Earth right here*  
Background: Hera's Heroes

And yes I am going to make so much fun of Hera's Heroes.

P.S. Do you think I should upload these on my Tumblr?

* * *

Two Disney concept artists were fighting.

"The Twi'leks should be riding on dodo-like creatures!"  
"No, their rides should look more like dinosaurs!"  
"What, like those big slow things?"  
"No, the bipedal ones, like the t-rex, fast and cool!"  
"That's not the Star Wars way! Look at the tauntauns!"  
"Tauntauns don't look like dodos!"  
"And even less like dinosaurs!"

"Dinos!"  
"Dodos!"  
"Dinos!"  
"Dodos!"

"Guys, can't you agree on something for once?" said their superior as she walked into the room.  
"It's either dodos or dinos and I do not want it to be dinos/dodos!" they both shouted.  
"Um, it's a fictional creature anyway so why not combine both?" suggested the superior.  
"Hmm."  
"Hrrrrmmmm."  
"Yeah, maybe."  
"It might actually work."  
"We'll try.

Later, upon seeing the new rides the Twi'lek rebels were supposed to use, Cham Syndulla threw up his arms and said,  
"What ze fuck is zis dodo dinozaur shit? How did ve end up with zis? Vat were zey thinking?!"


	47. Kalikori

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels, Star Wars or any of their characters. I do not own Mickey Mouse and I do not own any other fictional characters that may be portrayed in any chapter of this fanfic. I also acknowledge that these characters belong to their rightful owner(s); in the case of Mickey Mouse ans SWR characters, who are portrayed most often, they belong to Disney. This is a fanfiction which means I had no intention of, and am not, stealing anything.  
THERE WE GO; THE PERFECT DISCLAIMER!

Background: Hera's Heroes

No offense to the world's ten-year-olds out there.

Also, unlike what this chapter says, a Kalikori probably looks exactly like the one in the show because Disney said so. And Hera probably looked exactly like the girl in the portrait because Disney said so.

* * *

"Alright Grand Admiral Thrawn, here is the Kalikori used in today's episode, if you could uh... Tell one of your subordinates to put it over there." said a Disney employee, pausing his busy bustling to hand over the artifact to Thrawn.  
But instead of doing as told, the Chiss asked, "Why does it look like this?"  
"What?" the employee did not quite get the essence of the question.  
"I mean. Why does it look like shit."  
"Um, it looks the way it's supposed to look sir."  
"No, it doesn't. Kalikori's don't look like this. This looks like a ten-year-old's failed craft project."  
"Uh..."  
"Where did you get it?"  
"Well, Mickey last mentioned needing an object to use as a Kalikori and one of my coworkers brought it."  
"Oh really."  
"Welllll come to think of it, she did say it was from her son..."  
"I CALLED IT! But seriously. A Kalikori doesn't look like this."  
"Sorry, sir, we don't have enough time to find a replacement."  
"Ah. I understand. But I'll chuck it away as soon as the episode's over."  
"Shouldn't you give it back to that coworker I told you about?"  
"Whatever."

Later, Hera sat cornered while Thrawn accurately deduced Hera's identity and her family connections.  
"Now let me just ask you one thing..." said Thrawn, finishing his drone.  
 _Pretty sure that's not how it goes,_ thought Hera, but she kept silent.  
"Wtf is that shit?" Thrawn gestured to the painting of Hera's family.  
 _Okay that's definitely not how it goes.  
_ "What?" asked Hera.  
"Who drew that?" continued Thrawn.  
"Um wut? I dunno?"  
"Seriously, who drew that. This-" he pointed at the part of the painting that portrayed baby Hera, "-doesn't look like you at age five at all, I have all your identity files and photos of you in the galactic database and that's not how you looked at all. Plus, that smile literally screams murder."  
"I don't know who drew that," Hera stated as calmly as possible, although she was remembering how she did NOT, in fact, look like that at age five and also very worried about the fact that Thrawn had access to every single piece of information regarding her.

Apparently the Grand Admiral had followed a completely different thought train, because he was saying something about atrocious walking mice and being surrounded by shit before abruptly storming off out of the room.

* * *

 **Epilogue...Prologue...Middle-logue, Bonus, Whatever, unrelated overused joke warnings apply**

"So I will ask you again, Captain. Do you know what this is?"  
"Some primitive native trinket-"  
"It's a Kalikori, a revered Twi'lek heirloom passed from parent to child through generations. Worthless to outsiders, priceless to family.  
" _But look closer._ "  
The camera zoomed in endlessly until the small cracks in he wood were visible.  
There, in the center of it all, so small it was almost invisible with the naked eye,  
was the shape  
of a triangle.

" _Illuminati_ "

The X-Files theme began blaring loudly from an unknown source.


	48. Life Hack

Disclaimer: The perfect disclaimer (see Chapter 47, "Kalikori").

Background: The one where Maul is like DEEPER DEEPER and we were all worried for the innocence of Ezra  
(The Holocrons of Fate)

Word of advice: If you're trying to open something with a screw-on metal lid (without breaking your hand), run it under warm water for a while. The heat will loosen the metal, allowing it to open more easily.

* * *

"Hello, who is this?" said Mickey Mouse, picking up his phone in the middle of a very busy day.

"Yeah this is Maul, can you help-"  
"Maul? Who are you? Are you from Wander Over Yonder?"  
"What, no, I'm in Star Wars- wait, wander over what?"  
"Ahh, you, the red guy in Star Wars. Nevermind. So why did you call?"  
"I can't open this."  
"You can't what?"  
"I'm trying to open soemthing, how do I do this?"  
Now if Mickey had remembered that Maul was supposed to be in possession of the Jedi Holocron in that particular episode, but again, he was too busy.  
"Usually, running warm water over it will work. now stop bothering me, I got work to do, copyrights to claim and companies to buy."  
And he hung off.

"Oh." said Maul.  
He got up and went to the Ghost sink where he ran warm water over the Jedi Holocron.  
After a few moments, when the Holocron was warm enough, he went back to the Jedi's quarters and pried it open.  
The Holocron opened easily and a hologram of Obiwan Kenobi showed up.  
"Wow, that actually worked really well, I'll have to remember this one," said Maul as he stared at the blue-ish figure of his nemesis droning on.


	49. Disney Says So, Now Do It

Disclaimer: *put copypaste disclaimer here*

Background: Hera's Heroes, Season 3

I feel like I should write something here... Oh right, again, I'm not actually bashing Thrawn. I think he's portrayed excellently in the show. But again, this fanfic just takes random aspects of the show to make fun of.  
And whoo, two chapters in one day! Make sure you read both haha

* * *

"May I introduce Hera Syndulla, Rebel pilot, freedom, blah blah, daughter of your nemesis, Cham Syndulla." Thrawn read aloud from the script.  
"My what?" said Captain Slavin, looking up from his own script.  
"Nemesis."  
"Who the hell is Ham Syndulla-"  
"Cham-"  
"Cham Syndulla and why is he my nemesis? I've never even met him!" exclaimed Slavin.  
"I don't know, the script says so."  
"Director, why is this guy my nemesis?" asked the Captain, turning to a guy standing some ten feet away, who was actually an assistant and was only temporarily in charge.  
"I don't know, Disney said so, jut go with it."  
"What even" Slavin threw up his arms, then regretted it because now he had to pick up the scripts he'd scattered.

"Director?" Thrawn called quietly.  
"Yes?" the poor assistant turned to face the blue Admiral.  
"Pages three and four of my script seem to be missing. Care to explain?"  
"Ah, um," the assistant fumbled around the studio, picking up sheets of paper and whispering to other employees, "Oh there they are, um-" he handed the pages back to Thrawn as he continued to stumble on his words. "See, we- they- we were making some slight adjustments to that part of your dialongue..."  
"What adjustments?" Thrawn asked warily. He preferred the version he read before the pages went missing.  
"Riiight about... there," answered the assistant, pointing to a certain part of the retrieved pages. "It's not finished yet, the words are not fixed and it's, uh, a scribbled draft of the general events, I- we- would rather you didn't read it yet..."  
He was silenced as Thrawn raised a hand and proceeded to read the scripts anyway.

This is what he saw:

 _ **Slavin:** She's a peasant_

 _ **Thrawn:** Whatever_

 _ **Slavin:** She's a flipping slave_

 _ **Thrawn:** Sorry Hera_

 _ **Slavin:** Art is not my thing_

 _ **Thrawn:** Eh_

 _ **Slavin:** What's all this about_

 _ **Thrawn:** Eh_

 _ **Slavin:** That looks like shit_

 _ **Thrawn:** _***grabs uniform, growls savagely and hisses like a vampire about to tear out the throat of its trembling prey***

Grand Admiral Thrawn slowly looked up from the page he was reading.  
His mouth never opened, but his face said it all for everyone:

 _What the shit?_


	50. Every SWR Shorts Chapter Ever

**50 Chapters Special... Sort of**

(Standard disclaimer: copypaste intensifies...)

Additional disclaimer: This was, is and will be never intended to make fun of/degrade the actual show (even though that's pretty much what I've been doing for the last 49 chapters). I love the show and I don't mean offense to anybody else who does.

Hello guys.  
First of all, THANK YOU for supporting me this far.  
I never thought I could get to Chapter 50 or get more than a hundred reviews... But they happened!  
Thank you so much!  
Aaaand now, to celebrate the 50th chapter, I shall...

 _*dramatic drum roll*_

Mock myself.

So... I have finally sunk to the level of making fun of myself. AND I WILL NEVER CEASE TO BE REPETITIVE! MUHAHAHAHA!

...Why the face? You know I'm never serious.

Anyway, here goes nothing!

* * *

It was another nondescript day located somewhere on a certain timeline for the Rebels because a teenage fanfiction writer was too lazy to explain shit.

"HURR DURR LET'S DO SOMETHING STUPID," said Ezra, who had apparently been doing stupid things since Season One.  
"I'm not sure about that, and also I seem to be the only logical person around here," contemplated Hera.  
"YAY IT'S A BRILLIANT PLAN EZRA LET'S DO IT" cheered Sabine and Zeb except Zeb growled the words because that's what he does.

Anyway they somehow ended up agreeing to do the stupid thing and stepped out of the Ghost when Mickey Mouse appeared.  
"I AM YOUR BOSS SO DO AS I SAY" he squeaked and gave the Ghost crew a set of instructions.  
"Ok Mickey" they said.

Some time later they had moved to a different place that had Imperials in it.  
"THIS IS WHERE WE WILL DO REBELLION STUFF AND KILL OFF RANDOM STORMTROOPERS," declared Ezra.  
"WE'LL DIE OFF AND BE PORTRAYED AS POOR INNOCENT BYSTANDERS EVEN THOUGH WE WERE TRYING TO KILL EZRA," declared the stormtroopers.  
"We'll just stand here in the corner and be pitifully sacrificed," declared the Imperial officers.  
"We'll just get pathetically beaten up for no reason and lament our bad luck even though we are actually an evil empire that does evil stuff," said the Empire in general.

"I WANNA FIGHT YOU" Maul popped down from the ceiling, brandishing his lightsaber.  
"DAMMIT GO HOME MAUL CLONE WARS IS OVER" someone complained.  
"But Mickey Mouse told me to stay," said Maul.  
"Ok then," replied the someone.

"NO ONE CAN PENETRATE OUR DISNEY SHIELDS AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" laughed the Rebels as they stormed the Imperial base/headquarters/ship/place/thingy.

"Wtf, Disney is lame, but I can see through all of the schemes so eat shit Hera," said Thrawn.  
The Rebels got their butts kicked.  
"Yay Thrawn" said the Imperials. "Finally we get someone cynical on our side."

The Ghost crew trudged into Mickey's sparkling white office in a beaten heap and walked in on Mickey bullying another Imperial because apparently the aforementioned lazy writer now wanted to emphasize the no-mercy-to-villains side of Disney.

"Thrawn beat us," they whined.  
"HOW DARE HE" yelled Mickey. "Oh and you're gonna die, now get out," he added to the Imperial who dragged himself outside to either go sulk in a corner or torment insubordinate citizens.  
"AND NOW I WILL USE MY CONGLOMERATE MASCOT POWERS TO MAKE YOU WIN" blabbered Mickey as he grabbed a sheet of script and a quill from the other side of the room with his elastic arms and began dramatically crossing out and rewriting words.  
"THERE, IT'S DONE, GIVE THIS TO YOUR SUPERVISORS" he said as he handed the corrected sheet to the Rebels five seconds later.  
"OK THANKS MICKEY" yelled Ezra as he and his team pranced out of the room.

"OH BUT WAIT" Mickey dove under his desk and pulled out an impossible-sized bucket full of Clone Wars.  
"THIS WILL HELP US" he dumped the whole thing onto the Rebels' heads.  
"I KNEW IT, I HATE YOU MICKEY" screamed Kanan as he was bombarded with Clone Wars battle droids, Clone Wars whiny Anakin, Clone Wars clone troopers and Clone Wars Maul.  
"HAHAHAHAHAHA" laughed Mickey evilly.  
"Save me" groaned Hera as she got stuck under a pile of Jedi.  
"Wake me up, wake me up inside," sang Ezra as he was hit full in the face by a Clone Wars Maul and now suddenly his hair was shaved and he was emo as fuck.  
"Save me from the dark," joined in Kanan who was suddenly blind and had a MOOOSSTASCHE.

"Don't worry soldiers, we can still beat them," said Thrawn.  
"Ok thanks for the encouragement, by the way I hate your spelling," Kallus told him.  
"Oh hi Kallus I'm your new mid-boss and I'm totally not the scientist from Indiana Jones," said Governor Pryce.  
"Where's my episode?" whined Vader.  
"SJDGFASJDG GOD DAMMIT JUST CATCH THOSE REBELS ALREADY" yelled Tarkin.

JUST THEN (cue dramatic music), a huge shadow of Mickey Mouse loomed over them all.  
"MWAHAHAHAHAHA I CONTROL THIS UNIVERSE AND YOU HAVE NO CHANCE OF WINNING WHATSOEVER!" laughed the mouse in an evil magnified squeak.  
Everything blew up as Mickey's laughing continued in the background and then they all died.

 **THE END**

* * *

...I take back what I said earlier.  
Not sure if I made fun of myself or the show.

(Trivia: This chapter has exactly 900 words excluding this sentence.)


	51. Fan Theories Be Like

Disclaimer:The Perfect Disclaimer™ (see chapter 47)  
I'm getting lazy.

Background: Basically Season 3 so far

First of all guys I AM SO SORRY for the long wait. I was busy writing applications for high school and I even forgot there was a chapter waiting to be published.

And, uh, don't get mad at me because I know full well Thrawn has some calculative intention behind his every move. Keep in mind that this fanfic is strictly (kinda) out-of-character and STUPID.

* * *

The rebels stole some old ships from the Empire.  
"Allow them to escape with their meagre reward," said Thrawn.  
Kallus screaming in Spelling Nazi Pain could be heard faintly in the background.

The rebels teamed up with a bunch of Twi'leks and tried to steal something.  
When that failed, they set fire to a house full of Imperials.  
"They've earned their victory," said Thrawn, letting them escape again.

The rebels knocked out a poor scout-trooper who was just trying to be brave - it was not his fault he didn't come with a Disney shield - and stole his armor.  
Thrawn ignored the scout-trooper who was a little short for a scout-trooper and also wore a helmet haunted by the screams of its original owner.

The rebels killed stormtroopers.  
"They're only a small cell, it's not worth the effort," said Thrawn.

The rebels drew stupid graffiti on street walls.  
"What an interesting piece of art," said Thrawn.

The rebels took a huge dump on the Imperial backyard. Whether this was literal or figurative is up to you to decide.  
Actually, it was probably literal, as Thrawn said "That was the neighbor's dog."

One day in the Rebel Headquarters, there was an announcement.  
"Our secret informant is visiting us in person," announced Commander Sato.  
A hooded figure walked in.  
He slowly took off the hood to reveal a face with a pair of bright red eyes and blue skin.

"Gasp" gasped the rebels.

"Yes, I was secretly a Fulcrum all along," said Thrawn.  
Then he began to laugh evilly.

"What?" said the rebels.

The end.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

"But there's more," said Thrawn, "while working as Fulcrum I found out all about your secret bases and weaknesses and now you will be destroyed! Mwahahahahaha!"  
"Oh no!" said the rebels as their base was bombed, Thrawn saw himself out and they all died.


	52. Did Someone Say Clone Wars!

Disclaimer: (Let's all just pretend that the disclaimer in Chapter 47 is also written here.)

Background: The Last Battle

Also, new episode coming out this Saturday! Yay!

* * *

Maul sat in his quarters and turned on the TV.  
"The Jedi and his Padawan, I mean my apprentice, I mean the kid, finished filming the new episode a couple days ago. It must be on TV now." he said to himself as he settled down with a bag of space chips. "Let's see what kind of bullshit they were up to this time."  
But his face became more constricted as the episode played before his eyes.  
When the Clone Wars droid commander appeared onscreen, Maul could take it no longer.  
He snatched up the phone and dialed Mickey.

"Yes, just putting in some more Clone Wars to attract more nostalgic viwers... Oh hey what's up Maul?"  
Maul was triggered.  
"You didn't tell me there was going to be a Clone Wars episode!"  
"...Well, yeah, what about it?"  
"How could you not tell me about a Clone Wars episode?!"  
"Well technically you went off to Tat-"  
"MICKEY THOSE ARE SPOILERS I WILL NOT HAVE MY DRAMATIC PLANS REVEALED UNTIL THE VERY LAST MOMENT"  
"Well-"  
"HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL ME ABOUT A CLONE WARS EPISODE"  
With that, Maul hung up by slamming down his phone on the table.

"HOW DARE THEY NOT TELL ME ABOUT A CLONE WARS EPISODE!" he repeated angrily as he activated his lightsaber and proceeded to slash his room to pieces.

Kylo Ren chose that exact moment to walk by, and he thought to himself, _I'm so gonna change my role model._

* * *

This doesn't have anything to do with fanfiction, but my country is literally political chaos right now.  
Our president has been controlled (sort of) by a _shaman_... Can you believe it?  
No, it's not that she (the president) was cursed into submission, that would be cow dung, but she and the shaman were 'friends

and the shaman wasn't even a politician yet she recieved and read all these top secret goverment documents and made edits to the president's speech.  
Also 1040 corpses were found under a hill some couple days ago. It's not 10, it's not 40, it's 1040. One thousand and forty. WTF.


	53. Awkward Silence

Disclaimer: See Chapter 47.

Background: "Imperial Supercommandos"

So sorry about the hiatus. I was lazy, uninspired and busy being beaten up by my dad who thought my high school application essay was crap.

* * *

Ezra sat opposite Fenn Rau as the Ghost took off for the Protectors' base.  
He thought for a moment to say hi, but decided it would be, well, awkward if he greeted a prisoner he'd already met earlier that day. So he sat still.  
Fenn Rau gazed into Ezra's face - or he could have been gazing at the wall next to Ezra, or simply deep in thought, but to Ezra it felt like he was looking through his eyes and into his soul.  
Ezra looked away, but the glare burned the side of his head like unpleasant Lothal sunshine.  
Besides, his neck started to hurt.  
 _Oh god oh god this is so awkward what do I do_ , he thought as he turned his head the other way as inconspicuously as possible.

Meanwhile, Fenn Rau was having his own little mental voices chattering away in his mind.  
 _Dammit, I have to start a mutiny, why is that kid twisting his neck at ninety degrees like that?_  
He sat still as Ezra faced the opposite direction yet again. He could practically see the awkwardness the boy was feeling.  
 _How about you go over there so I can start a mutiny,_ he thought and tried willing with all his might in the false hopes of somehow turning out to have mind control powers, but even in this cartoon universe such powers had limits.  
And now the kid was looking up at the ceiling - no, wait, he was looking down at his feet now. _Not very good at hiding your emotions, eh?_ the Mandalorian sneered mentally.

Finally, Ezra gave in.  
 _OH GOD THIS IS TOO AWKWARD,_ he mentally yelled to himself as he shot out of his seat and headed over to talk to Sabine.  
 _Kriffing finally! I can start my damned mutiny!_ Fenn Rau sighed inwardly and rose up as well.


	54. Stupidity, Frustration And A Plot Twist

Disclaimer: Look. at. Chapter. 47.

Background: The Last Battle (Season 3)

So... as apology for my five-day-long hiatus, I have decided to upload two chapters in one day.

* * *

The stormtroopers strutted out of the shuttle to face a small group of Clone Wars battle droids.  
Agent Kallus and Governor Pryce watched via holocam from their positions inside the great Stardestroyer up above.  
They did not say anything, but they were personally quite worried.  
 _Maybe I should have given them direct orders,_ thought Kallus.

Meanwhile, down on Agamar, the stormtroopers were taking things in the opposite direction of what their superiors probably wanted, though they did not know it.  
"It's them clankers,"  
"Yeah, I see the Clone Wars™ mark floating on their heads."  
"Doesn't it just make you want to shoot them?"  
"Yeah, they're stealing all our attention with their stupid catchphrases."  
"We really deserve more attention. People these days are too reminiscent about that stupid war that happened ages ago to pay much attention to anything else."  
"Actually, the war's pretty recent from a relative point of view..."  
"Shut up Carl, nobody asked your opinion."  
"Let's shoot these droids."  
"Yeah, let's shoot this lot even though it's basically giving the enemy the upper hand and a totally illogical shit of an idea."  
"Brilliant, Jimmy! That's just what we'll do!"  
And they blasted off the head of the B1 battle droid who only wanted to say hi.

Watching from beyond the atmosphere, the agent and the governor both silently screamed _Noooooooooo_.  
"Dammit, we should have told them outright to make friends," muttered Pryce.  
"But oh no we didn't, because it sounds too cheesy," murmured Kallus.  
"Great, we've just gotten ourselves another bunch of enemies." Pryce paced around the room.  
"I take back what I said earlier. The 'help that will never come' part. Turns out we do end up helping them." Kallus started pacing around the room as well, so that the space was occupied by the ever spinning circle of Kallus and Pryce at either end.  
The holocam was now filled with the unheard noises of troopers and driods dying at each other.

* * *

Bonus:  
"Yes I did help them in a way, I suppose, wait HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT I AM FULCRUM" exclaimed Governor Pryce.  
"OMFG I thought you were going to call me a Fulcrum, HOW DID YOU KNOW" shrieked Agent Kallus.  
"I hope nobody knows that we're all secretly Fulcrums," whispered a stormtrooper to another.  
"Nah, bro, they won't even guess," reassured his fellow trooper.


	55. Monday

Disclaimer: See Chapter 47. I wrote an excellent disclaimer there, but I'm too lazy to find the document and copy paste.

Background: Sometime in Season 3.

Thank you for reading, as always!

* * *

An alarm clock beeped to life, flashing 07:00, sounding the Disney jingle instead of the usual MEEP-MEEP-MEEP.  
Ezra woke up with a groan.  
"What day is it?" he asked no one in particular.  
"Mondayyyyy," slurred Her's voice from somewhere above him.  
"Oooohhhh nooooo, I hate Mondaaaaayyyyyysss," Ezra slurred back as he nevertheless got up, buckled his shoes and collapsed on the floor.  
A something was scheduled with the Imperials... yes, it was a 'something', probably lots of fighting, maybe an episode, but he couldn't really remember.  
He carried that irritating feeling of missing out on some important piece of memory all the way as he dragged himself to the main office.

"Oh, good, you're here!" Mickey Mouse's voice piped up amid what sounded like a quiet mob of zombies groaning collectively.  
Soon, the mouse himself appeared, throwing open the double white metal doors and clapping in delight because again, screw logic. Mondays didn't affect this clever little bitch.  
Ezra slouched into the office, and sat down somewhere, and listened to Mickey drone on and on about viewer figures and spaceship models...

He was flying the Ghost into a supernova with a pink TIE fighter hot on his trail, Sabine and Zeb at his side.  
He performed a smart little swerve, putting yet even more distance between the TIE - which was shooting Mickey-eared hats for some strange reason - and the Ghost.  
"Nice one there!" commented Sabine - or was it Zeb? Since when did Sabine have stripes on her face?  
"Ezra?"  
Since when did Zeb have a head full of technicolor hair?  
"Ezra!"  
The ship shook violently.  
"Ezra!"  
He snapped awake.

Sabine and Zeb looked worriedly down on him, non of them sporting signs of swapping faces, thank the Force.  
"We've gotta go to a planet to battle the Imperials!" chirped the Mandalorian in an urgent voice.  
"Oh... yeah... right... the battle... of course..." the Jedi apprentice murmured disorientedly.

Thirty minutes later, Ezra was not on the Planet of Disney anymore.  
Ten more minutes later, he was fighting stormtroopers.  
Or was he?

Three stormtroopers lay on the ground some ten meters away, moaning miserably, as they lazily waved their guns about at 1 shot per 10 seconds.  
Ezra lay sprawled on his stomach behind a stray crate as he waved around his lightsaber in a circular pattern.  
 _This is going nowhere,_ he thought faintly.

Some twenty meters to his left was Kanan and Darth Maul, sitting on opposing boulders and poking each other's lightsabers with his own... at best.  
Mostly, the weapons just left a lot of burn marks on the ground.  
Maul managed to hit Kanan's lightsaber properly once.  
"Oh no, I'm hit," drawled the Jedi.  
"Mwa, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha... ha..." laughed Maul.. really... slowly... and not evilly at all.

Another ten meters to their behind sat Sabine and a stormtrooper in a vicious - well, not-so-vicious - game of draw-and-erase. What that means is that while Sabine drew little chalk figures on the ground, the stormtrooper erased them from the other side. Then Sabine would draw even more chalk figures, and the whole thing would continue in an endless loop.

In an Imperial Stardestroyer some thousand kilometers up above, Thrawn sat with his face planted firmly into his desk as he waited for his morning coffee.  
On his desk also sat a single holocommunicator, showing Agent Kallus and Governor Pryce on a different ship, also sprawled on the deck, staring blankly up at the ceiling.  
"I hate Mondays," Darth Vader rumbled from somewhere out of view.


	56. GIVE US MORE THRAWN ALREADY

Disclaimer: Surely you know what do do?  
Also, I did watch the new episode, but this Chapter which was written last week, was still on que and I needed to publish it.  
I apologize for this chapter being so short; I will publish more chapters about The Iron Squadron and individual characters this week if I can.  
I can guarantee another chapter tomorrow, for one thing.  
Thank you for reading, as always!  
Oh and if I may dare advertise a bit here, I wrote a new Doctor Who oneshot. It's an actually serious one.

Background: A little while before Imperial Supercommandos

* * *

"And today we will be introducing a new Mandalorian-" rang out Mickey's squeaky voice across the conference hall. But before he could finish his sentence -"What about me?" whined Ahsoka who was sulking somewhere in the back. "I left a huge cliffhanger in the last season."  
"We will get to it-" Mickey hastily tried to move on to the next agenda because he actually had absolutely ZERO plans for Ahsoka's future, but luck wasn't on his side.

"When am I coming baaack," drawled out Thrawn. "Just listen to your fucking fans already..." and he played a recording of Star Wars Rebels fans whining and booing at the episode trailer featuring the absence of himself for everyone in the room to hear.  
"Yes, yes, but we have a lot of scripts on cue, they're very important to the plot-" Mickey said once more, lying through his teeth because in fact the writers were busy scribbling down another filler episode.

"Where is my episode," grumbled Vader, who was tired of all the waiting and draped over a chair. "I was in that episode, for, like, two minutes, and that was the _season finale_!? Nobody even remembers me in Season 3!"  
"Oh yeah, you must be feeling _reeeaaally_ forgotten, how miserable, you poor thing," floated the spiteful voice of the Grand Inquisitor through a wall.

"Everyone, please, I told you that this is not the time for that! We need new Mandalorians!"  
"BUT I WANT MY EPISODE HSGASHDGLDHG" several voices rose up at once, stressing Mickey out so much that when an unnamed Imperial Commander asked, "If we're getting new Mandalorians, can you please put them on our side?" Mickey said yes without thinking.

Later the mouse remembered and said to himself, _What is wrong with you Mickey, what have you done? This will hinder the effectiveness of the Plot Shields greatly; the Mandalorians are supposed to be very str- oh, wait, screw canon, I can just nerf them._


	57. Space dads

Disclaimer: too lazy to even  
Btw I don't own any of the memes or brands mentioned here.

Background: Sometime after Rex was intoduced to the show.

Idea suggested by Disney Syndulla.

* * *

One day, Rex and Kanan found out about the Internet.  
The next day, Ezra was dying in a pool of shame and embarassment.  
"Stop it," he managed to gurgle out through his red-hot face as Rex and Kanan did 'cool things'. No one heard him.  
"Yo watch this dank trick kid!" yelled Kanan as he surfed - or tried to surf - one of the many railings in their Atollon base with a skateboard (which was painted in eyestabbing technicolor) and failed.  
"Haha that's so lit fam!" said Rex, wearing one of those 90's sunglasses that are basically pads of plastic with slits in them. "Yo check these out!"  
Oh. He was also wearing Crocs sandals. And Adidas pants.

Ezra curled himself up until the pain in his back told him it would be a bad decision to curl up any further.  
He felt his fingers and toes curling up as well. Even his earlobes.  
Kanan and Rex were dabbing now.  
Hera silently approached Ezra's little corner, her lekku curling up until they looked like Princess Leia's buns.

" _NOW WATCH ME WHIP, NOW WATCH ME NEIGH NEIGH_ " raucous singing rang throughout the base.  
Zeb slouched over to Ezra and Hera's corner, trying to curl himself tightly into a ball like a cat, but failing because he had too much muscle.  
Multiple yells of "YOLO" and "HERE COME DAT BOI", then a thudding noise as if one of them failed a trick again and fell on his face.

"WASSUUUP BRAAAAAAAAAH" Ezra heard them yell at Commander Sato as the space Asian passed by.  
Kanan broke off from his dank meme-ing to tell him stubbornly, "That's racist," through the Force.

A bajillion light years away, "I sense a disturbance in the pop culture side of the Force," Darth Sidious told Darth Vader.  
"What is it?" Vader asked.  
"Patience, young apprentice, let me concentrate..."  
Vader waited silently on his kneeled position, which he did not have to do for long because then Sidious yelled "OH NO IT'S THE DANK MEMES! RETREAT!"  
"NOT THE DANK MEMES!" Vader yelled and ran out of the hologram room to tell his subordinates to turn around his Stardestroyer Executor and fly away as far from the disturbance as possible.  
Sidious was pissed because Vader hung off without saying goodbye.  
Later, Vader was forced to wear Crocs sandals for a week as punishment.

* * *

Well, writing this was certainly a one-of-a-kind experience.  
Is it bad that I have a pair of Crocs sandals? I mean, I don't think they're 'coolzy-fresh', but a relative gave them to me as a present and they're quite convenient...


	58. Written by person falling into insanity

Background: Not canon yet, uh, suppose it would be sometime in Season 3? Oh and before The Wynkahthu Job.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except this page and the words written on it... Or do I?

So in the EU Thrawn has a pet ysalamir... sort of. Disney must never know.

* * *

Admiral Thrawn was relaxing in his own room and minding his own business and talking to his own ysalamir ("How are you? I had a terrible day today. Mickey wouldn't let me do anything.") and minding his own business and definitely minding HIS OWN BUSINESS when Mickey poked his nosy head in to say, "Hello Thrawn, I'm here to tell you that in this next episode-"  
But then he saw the ysalamir.  
"Ooh is that your pet?" he asked instead.

"No, get out-" stuttered Thrawn - well, he did not stutter, actually; it was a well-constructed sentence until Mickey cut him off, that is.  
"Oh my ears Thrawn, you clearly have a talent of communicating with animals!" the mouse squeaked.  
"I don't-" the Admiral tried to make a retort, but for some reason he got cut off again.  
"I heard you conversing with it! You're a natural!" Mickey was starting to be even more annoying than he usually was.  
"I was just ranting and you're not supposed to eavesdrop!" Thrawn argued back, irritated. really, that was rude!  
"You're made for the job! YOU'RE A DISNEY PRINCESS!" Mickey completely ignored anything that he tried to say.  
"What?" the Chiss, although he did not want to admit it, felt like he had been hit in the face - no, it was more like that feeling when you're browsing through Google Images and suddenly come across something you didn't want to see, but back to the point.  
"YOU'RE A DISNEY PRINCESS!"  
Thrawn quickly constructed a counterargument. "First of all, no; I am a male. Therefore I cannot be a princess. Secondly, I am a Grand Admiral. Thirdly, there are no princes or princesses in the Galactic Empire."  
"Haha, no, I said DISNEY princess!"  
"My first and second arguments still stand."  
"No they don't!"

And then suddenly POOF they were in a courtroom where the judge was Donald Duck because fuck logic.  
"Tell me, O dear judge, is Thrawn a Disney princess or not?" asked Mickey in a sickeningly sweet voice, blinking rapidly.  
Thrawn nearly threw up.  
"He isss a Dissjjjneeyy princsteszz" hissed Donald Duck because the author of this crazy story recently found out that he sounds like Gollum from Lord of the Rings.  
"SEE!" yelled the mouse mascot triumphantly, then dropped to the floor because the Chiss could not take this any longer and had fired a shock blaster at him.  
Really, Thrawn had only wanted a cup of coffee all morning.

"NOOO HE IS DEFYING THE LAWS OF DISNEY" shrieked Cinderella from the Jury's seat. "GET HIM!"  
Everyone rose from their seats.  
But then,  
"Actually no, that was made Disney-legal since the Kalikori episode," interjected Minnie Mouse and everyone had to sit down again.  
By then, the person (probably) charged guilty was gone.

Two days later, Mickey showed up at his front door again.  
"Hello Thrawn, I'm here to tell you about the sentence I didn't get to finish two days ago, which was _Hello Thrawn, I'm here to tell you that in this next episode, you will not be doing anything._ "


	59. DA IRUHN SQERDREN

**Okay first of all, if you liked the episode 'The Iron Squadron', then this chapter probably won't suit your tastes. So I suggest you wait till I return with a more normal-ish chapter.**

Background: The Iron Squadron

It was a good episode to roast the everloving sh-t out of.  
Please enjoy this big ball of chaos I made out of it. It's the biggest one I ever wrote. I think it deserves to be called a literary YTP.

* * *

"LISTEN MICKEY MICKEY" SAID EZRA  
"WUT IS IT M8" DERPED MICKEY  
"HURR DURR HOW ABOUT AN EPISODE WITH A SHIP FULL OF ME" HERPED EZRA  
"YES YES GR8 IDEA M8 I R8 THIS 8/8 M8" 360'D MICKEY  
"PLZ NOOOOOOO" SCREAMED ZEB  
BUT NO ONE LISTENED TO HIM BECAUSE HE WAS A SMELLY PURPLE FURBALL AND A BACKGROUND CHARACTER!1!

"HI MY NAME IS GOOTI" said an alien girl who didn't seem to be able to get enough punk horns, rings and blings on her head.  
"wut" said Ezra.  
"IT'S NOT A PHASE GOOTI IS WHO I TRULY AM" she said.

"HI I'M JONNER JIN FROM RUGRATS" said a boy who looked like a 3D revival version of a 90's cartoon character.  
"wat"  
"I mean I'M JONNER JIN FROM ED EDD N EDDY"  
"wait what"  
"I MEAN I'M JONNER JIN, DEFINITELY AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER"

Ezra turned his hEAD 360 DEGREES BECAUSE HE WAS DA BEST AT SNIPING N00Bz and yelled "MICKEY MOUSE WTF YOU OCs SUCK"  
"SHUT UP EZRA" came the reply.

"Hi" said a voice from the captain's seat, which spun around to reveal...  
EZRA!1!1!

"HOI I'M A TOTALLY POINTLESS PLOT DEVICE CHARACTER- I MEAN WALMART" SAID THE EZRA WHO WAS DRESSED LIKE A FORKLIFT DRIVER IN A KIDS' PICTURE BOOK.  
"HI WALMART ME" SAID EZRA HAPPILY, in fact so happily that both edges of his mouth went all the way up his face and through the ceiling.  
"PLZ KILL MEEEEE" whined Zeb.

"IMMA 360 SNIPE THOSE STARDESTROYERS M8" airhorns blared in the background as pixelated sunglasses slided down Mart's face.  
"That's not a stardestroyer," came Sabine's disapproving voice.  
"SHUT UP, DORITOS AND MOUNTAIN DEW M8" the noise of people yelling filled the background and Mart spun around 360 DEGREES on his wheely chair. "YOLO" he cRIED.

A mile away (which was pretty close, considering the ships' sizes), Grand Admiral Thrawn scowled down at the small ship piloted by the Walmart teen.  
"IMMA 420 THAT N00B PUNK KIDDO" SAID THRAWN  
"GET REKT"  
SUNGLASSES SLID OUT OF NOWHERE ONTO HIS FACE AS HE BOMBED THE SHIT OUT OF WALMART'S SHIP AND EVERYONE DIED, THE END

But wait!  
Illuminati music is playing somewhere!  
What is it?  
DISNEY IS USING DEMON MAGIC TO REVIVE THE CHARACTERS!1!1!

"Surprise motherfucker" Ezra's voice was unusually deep as he was raised from the dead.  
"K bye" said Thrawn.  
"Aww but I wanted to be dramatic some more" said Mart.  
"I FINALLY FOUND NEMO I MEAN MART" YELLED THE REBEL COMMANDER GUY FROM SPACE JAPAN OR SOMETHING  
"YAY" SAID MART

DA END

* * *

Did you like it? Hope I didn't kill your eyes.


	60. About stuff

Note: This chapter is not a 'proper' chapter. It's 30% actual fanfic and 70% ramble. But it's important ramble.

Background: "An Inside Man"

* * *

"I'm Sumar and I'll help you on your Rebel mission today!" said the old man.

"Sumar Who?" asked Ezra.

"You know, Sumar, the farmer!"

"What...? Ezra couldn't remember.

"I'm Sumar, background character number 67's cousin's father's former roommate's sister's brother-in-law. Also you may or may not have saved me from the Imperials a millennia ago."

"Oh yes, I remember you perfectly! We went to the beach next to the Lothcat Ice Cream Parlor after that and had space sundae!"

"Who?" asked Kanan, frowning.

"Oh, never mind," muttered Ezra.

* * *

Recently someone told me that it felt as if the quality of my stories was dropping, saying that they "still really like them but the punctuation and the words and the stories seem to be losing quality." They also said they were being a right nag... (No you're not!)

First of all, Guest user, you didn't need to apologize for that. I always appreciate criticisms. Although I wish you had an account so we could discuss the matter in more detail.

If you're talking about the latest chapter about the Iron Squadron, all punctuation and spelling, etc. were done wrong on purpose, but if you're talking about recent chapters in general, I admit that I too have felt my creativity draining somewhat.

The whole reason I started this fic in the first place was to poke fun at plot holes and Disney shenanigans whenever I noticed them while watching an episode.  
I would just have a skeleton of a story pop up in my head (more often than not starting with _Hey, that doesn't make sense. Disney's being unfair again._ ), and I would add flesh and skin to it, but recently I may have been trying too hard to come up with something funny instead of actually enjoying the episodes and letting the ideas come to me naturally.  
It's like the difference between drawing when you have the beautiful finished picture in your mind, and drawing when you have no idea what to draw.

Which also indirectly affected the most recent hiatus - I got tired of keeping my eyes peeled for something to pick on, so I just relaxed while streaming Star Wars Rebels online for a change.

I still haven't got a lot of fresh ideas, but if I get some, I will continue; the fic won't end before the show does and hopefully I'll get some inspiration sooner or later.  
I write down any ideas that come to me and they can pile up as much as a dozen, and I used to ditch those that I didn't like and publish only those with potential, but recently I didn't get so lucky and published every idea. It could be another reason for the dropping quality. I'll try to fish out mediocre ideas like I used to.

About the punctuation, I try my best, but I tend to miss something when I proofread. Besides, I'm not a native English speaker.  
So, if you see any typos or grammar errors that bug you, feel free to write it in the reviews or PM me and I'll fix them as soon as I can.

I hope that this answered your questions, anonymous reviewer.

Thank you for giving me a chance to reflect on recent activities.


	61. Thrawn has a prawn on his lawn at dawn

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars Rebels, Disney or any of their characters.

Also, this chapter has nothing to do with prawns or lawns or dawns. I just wrote it down because it sounded funny.

I am _extremely_ sorry for the hiatus. It's been, what, a month? Excluding the last chapter. Which wasn't really a chapter. I was busy, had quite some things to do, and couldn't catch up to Star Wars Rebels for a while because Kisscartoon was down. Also still waiting for Rogue One to premiere in my country.  
I could probably put up a ton of excuses as to why I couldn't update, but it won't matter. I just want you guys to know that I am very, very sorry, and even though I cannot promise that I will update often, this fic won't be abandoned without being properly finished up.

Shoutout to Eszter for being there, though I can't reach you otherwise!

* * *

It was early summer, a few months before the release of the third season of Star Wars Rebels.

"Now to wrap it up," Mickey was saying, "Kallus is Fulcrum, Kallus is Fulcrum and Kallus is Fulcrum. Do you get that?" he asked the audience of the plot brushup meeting, sweeping a glance over the crowd.

"No," the characters chanted except Kallus, who knew what he was going to do and decided to keep silent, and Thrawn, who actually got the point.

"Good," chirped Mickey, clapping his hands together. "Dismissed! And don't forget; Kallus is Fulcrum!"  
"We already forgot!" shouted a voice from the back of the slowly dispersing audience and the mouse smiled contentedly.

Grand Admiral Thrawn threw an incredulous glance at Governor Pryce. "Surely this is some big joke?" he asked, but the governor (who was, unfortunately, also slightly cross-eyed as a side effect of attending these kinds of meetings one too many times) shook her head and stated that although she forgot all the details, it had to be serious and important.

A month passed, and Thrawn was shown his quarters inside his own Star Destroyer.  
The first thing he did after boarding was to cover the walls in large bright posters saying 'KALLUS IS FULCRUM'.  
However, all the posters were mysteriously scrubbed off deck during the night.

It was early September when Thrawn called his best friend Captain Gilad Pellaeon, who was still stuck in the Expanded Universe.  
When the Chiss had first been transferred to the Disney Canon universe, he had been very disappointed that the Captain could not make it with him. Now, however, he was not sure if his comrade was truly unlucky.  
"Hello, Gilad, you there?"  
"Oh goodness Thrawn I haven't spoken to you for AGES!"  
At least Pellaeon was still glad to contact him.  
"I've been hearing stories about the Disney universe, I heard that it was horrible, with plot shields as thick as three feet surrounding every single protagonist..."  
Thrawn patiently waited for his worried friend's voice to finish flowing out of the receiver.  
"Are you sure you don't want to come back? I don't think they're writing any new books about you. It should be peaceful for you here."  
The Admiral pondered silently for a minute.

"Well," he began, "for starters Mickey won't let me keep my ysalamir, no one gets me and no one seems to have common sense. Everyone forgets whatever they've been told the instant the words enter their ears, protagonists apparently have a dozen lives as well as those plot shields you mentioned, not to mention technicolor hair."  
"You're one to talk."  
"Watch it. That's Chiss for you. Those guys, on the other hand, are human."  
Silence on the other side. he took it as an invitation to continue.  
"Also Mickey won't let me do anything useful, plot holes as big as a hundred feet in diameter are so common that most are used to jumping over them all the time, obvious plot threads are almost purposefully ignored, I have eye pupils now-" he thought he heard a small noise of mild surprise from Pellaeon - "-and for some weird reason people are asking me to read bedtime stories for them."  
"At least that's one good thing for you."  
"Which means?"  
"You have a good voice. People could go sleep to it."  
"Have you been sleeping while I talked here?" Thrawn raised an eyebrow.  
"No, no, not at all!" came the hurried reply.  
"Good, but it's not good for me. I don't want people to fall asleep during my episodes. The same people who are constantly whining about Clone Wars and my novels, just to say."  
Silence.  
"Gilad, you receiving?"  
Silence accompanied by what could have been faint snoring.  
"I knew it." the Chiss grumbled and hung off. "Everyone falls asleep when I talk to them."

After another agonizing few months, it was time for the midseason two-parter.  
Mickey Mouse gathered everyone together in the conference hall as usual.  
When everyone was congregated, dramatic music started to play out of the speakers.  
The blinds were dragged down while a single spotlight focused on the center of the stage. The mouse marched up to the platform, mustering as much dignity as was possible with his tiny body.  
He turned to face the audience.  
"Now, I'm sure we're all gathered here for the same thing."  
His gaze swept over the chamber. Thrawn felt a strange sense of Déjà vu engulfing him.  
No one spoke.  
"Which involves an important announcement I have to make, concerning our midseason episodes. The one secret, the one buildup, the one plot twist."  
The mouse paused for extra effect.  
Then he drew in a big breath, and called out,  
" _ **Kallus is Fulcrum!**_ "

"Gasp!" the crowd collectively gasped. "No way!"  
Thrawn thought he was going to be vacuumed into a million pieces no thanks to all the gasping.  
" _You're joking, right?!_ " he bellowed while simultaneously not trying to be killed by chaos, but his voice was swallowed by the tumultuous noise of... something, something quite close to the noise made by idiots when they discovered a plain fact to be what it was, in his opinion.

"There, there," Agent Kallus patted his back. "Disney does need some getting used to if you're from the Expanded Universe. You'll learn to play along. So anyway... I guess we're enemies now?"


	62. Rogue One

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels, Rogue One or any of their characters. I do not own the Star Wars franchise, Lucasfilm, or Disney, and I don't anything that those franchises include, either.

Also, I know, Rogue One came out last year and this is seriously overdue, so, sorry.  
*offers you this slightly-longer-than-average-but-somewhat-incoherent chapter*

P.S. That scene with Darth Vader was the flipping BEST.

P.P.S. The SWR mid-season trailer looks great.

* * *

An alarm, akin to the merry ringing of a bell - only taken to the extreme - was blaring very loudly through the Disney headquarters and all the other buildings in the complex.  
"Ugghhh..." Zeb groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up from his bed (bottom one of a bunk) and spared a tired glance at the digital clock next to him. The red square letters blinked 07:59 AM.  
"What day is it?"  
Just then, the time switched to 08:00 and with that, none other than Mickey Mouse kicked down his front door yelling "IT'S ROGUE ONE DAY!"  
There was a short yelp as Ezra was presumably shocked into awakening, then a sickening thud as said Ezra tumbled out of his top bunk in a haste to react to this newest happening.

"IT'S ROGUE ONE DAY!" Mickey Mouse repeated.  
"Wha?" asked a dazed Ezra, glancing blearily up from his crumpled position on the floor.  
However, instead of an explanation, the mouse only screamed "ROOOOOOOOGUE OOOOOOONE DAAAAAAAAAAY", adding to their confusion, and stormed out of the room without any further ado.  
Judging by the muffled yells of their teammates and more Mickey screams, they came to the conclusion that the mascot was doing this to everyone.

When Zeb and Ezra finally trudged out of their quarters after trying and failing to come up with an explanation of their own, they were met with a horde of equally dumbfounded Star Wars Rebels characters with a number of people they'd never seen before.

"Sir, this guy's not from our squad!" a stormtrooper was yelling, pointing at another stormtrooper.  
"Look, Jim, it's me, Tim! The other guy left minutes ago!" the accused one put his hands up in defense.  
"I'm not Jim, I'm one of Krennic's troops!" the first trooper responded.  
"But I thought we were both in the Stardestroyer 2A1B team?" now they were both confused. "It's impossible to tell with all these helmets!"  
"Look, guys," an Imperial officer put a hand to his forehead exasperatedly, "the computer-animated guys, see Jim over there, or me, with the glossed-over skin texture? That's our team. The guys with the real bodies are Krennic's. See if you can tell apart the specks of dirt on their armor."

"Has anyone seen John? He's one of my deathtroopers and he's gone missing!" Krennic was yelling, striding through the crowd when he bumped into Thrawn.  
"Ah... hello?" he looked at the Chiss uncertainly. "Are you part of the Rogue One imperials?"  
"In case you can't see that I am a computer-animated character while you are a real person, no," said Thrawn coldly, and added, "Oh by the way I looked at the script while Mickey was not paying attention. You all die."  
"Uh... thanks for the... useful... information," Krennic stuttered as the Admiral pushed past. "...not," he added to the sentence with a dark mutter.

Darth Vader was staring at Grand Moff Tarkin rather uneasily. There was something unsettling about the Moff's appearance, though the Sith could not pinpoint the source of disturbance. No, wait. Something was wrong.  
"I thought Peter Cushing died two decades ago," he started carefully.  
"That is correct," said the disturbingly artificial Moff in an equally disturbingly haunting voice. "I am a CGI projection designed in appearance in his physical likeliness."  
"Who the hell are you?" boomed a voice, disrupting the form of Tarkin, who he now realized was merely a holographic projection.  
Vader looked up in surprise, to come face-to-face with no other than himself, albeit with a longer, slightly more red-eyed mask.  
Upon closer inspection, he also found that this one's mask was unnaturally spotless and shiny while his cape was somewhat glossed over in texture.  
"I am Ana- Darth Vader. Who... are you?" he asked.  
"I see. Then I am your Star Wars Rebels™ by Disney© edition," answered the CG copy.  
"And I am your former mentor, Original Trilogy version," piped up a disgruntled and disheveled ObiWan at his side.  
"And I am also your former mentor, Rebels ver-" but before this new CG clone of ObiWan could finish his sentence, Mickey appeared out of nowhere and whisked him away, furiously whispering "Spoilers!"  
Darth Vader decided he wanted out.  
"That's it, I'm weirded out, goodbye," he turned on his heels.  
"Say Hi to Star Wars Rebels™ by Disney© edition Tarkin for me," called out his computer-animated clone. Vader ignored him.

"Hello, are you the pre-Original-Trilogy post-Prequels version of me?" Rey was asking Jyn Erso.  
"Yes, only I am going to die after one movie."  
Rey was slightly befuddled by the nonchalant way in which she said this, but the faraway noise of a crowd jolted her back to her senses.  
"Gotta go, I think the fanatics are trying to ship me with Kylo Ren again," she told Jyn as she bolted off.  
"I think half of them's the people who think you're Luke's cousin's daughter's former roommate and Snoke's third sister-in-law," Jyn informed her blandly.  
"Not helping!" Rey yelled without looking back as she ran for her life, and that was the last the two ever saw of each other ever again.

Maul was sitting in his room, alone.  
"Everyone forgets about me," he grumbled.

 _Guess what!_ Chopper was bleeping to R2D2. _I'm going to make a cameo in Rogue One!_  
 _Me too!_ R2 bleeped back.  
"I think you mean 'us'," C3PPO corrected him.  
"Me included," Hera syndulla commented as she passed by. "I know, mentioned only, but isn't it cool? My ship actually shows up too!"  
"And I'm the one who dies at the end of it all," complained K-2SO.

"The whole point of my existence is so that Disney can explain to people why the exhaust port in the Death Star wasn't just a stupid mistake," murmured Galen to Cassian.  
"And they made a whole movie about it," agreed that guy whose pal was totally not sassy robot Chewbacca.  
"And we're all gonna die," murmured the guy who was an Imperial defect pilot with a ponytail. "See, people are forgetting our names already."

"Ooh what a nice planet," said TK-334 to TK-335 when they saw Scarif. "Looks like space Hawaii. It would be good to get shore leave on there."  
 _Yeah... Good luck with that._ Thought Krennic as he swept past.

Kanan and Sabine decided to go out for a walk, but they regretted it the moment they set foot outside the building because a huge group of Star Wars fans screaming "ROGUE ONE!" chose that moment to trample over them in their excitement.  
"Will we ever even be remembered after this?" the Jedi groaned, trying to pick himself off the ground.  
A stranger's pair of hands helped him up.  
"Yes, they will," said the man with a gray face and sunglasses - no, individual; how dare he assume their gender - _Tumblr anon,_ Kanan thought - whispered reassuringly before running off with the rest of the pack.

Kanan and Sabine stared at the fandom for a long, long time after they were out of sight.


	63. I'm alive (Author's note)

First off I want to apologize for two things:  
1\. This is not a story chapter.  
2\. THE HIATUS.

I've been very busy studying and getting into yet another fandom which I won't mention for the sake of relevance, and I realized I haven't updated for more than a month.

I'M SO SORRY and I want you all to know that 1) I'm alive, 2) This fic is also alive and 3)there are new chapters coming.

I actually postponed watching Trials of the Darksaber because I thought it would be boring, but I watched it today and apparently I was wrong, it gave me some new ideas, and I'm writing them now. You'll get at least one chapter within a week.

With much apologies, I'm not saying I'll be getting back to the one-chapter-every-few-days update frequency of old; I don't think I can. But I'll keep tabs on it and write stuff as I reflect on old episodes or watch new ones.  
So, stay tuned, and thanks for sticking with me.


	64. Filler

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars Rebels, any of its characters, Disney, or any of its mascots.

Background: Trials of the Darksaber

* * *

A heavy durasteel door barring entrance to a cold, dark chamber slided open with a hiss.  
The light from the outside did not help the dimness of the interior much; the human eye would only be able to make out various red blinking lights.  
It did not help, either, that a certain rather small and mousy silhouette was standing in the doorway, blocking some of the light.  
Mickey Mouse noted this as he stared down at his own dramatic shadow marked against the yellowish-white rectangle that came from the entryway.  
"Let there be light," he murmured - though the desired effect was somewhat diminished by his squeaky voice - and snapped his fingers.  
Nothing happened.  
"Every time," he grumbled, and turned around to fumble for the switch that was a bit too high for him.

After he managed to turn the lights on after a few tiny mouse jumps, he walked over to an upright container that ominously resembled the one that held a frozen Han Solo once, except there was no Han Solo shape protruding out it - instead, there was a Fenn Rau shape.  
"It is time," Mickey declared haughtily, pressing yet another button and letting the automatic system do the rest of the work to reveal a frozen Fenn Rau - well, no longer quite frozen, but soaking wet and coughing with his face on the floor.  
"Get up," the mouse clapped his hands together. "The committee decided they needed you dragged back into the show after all."  
"The committee..." Fenn muttered weakly, "Heh, that's a new one," before fainting.

"It's time for a Sabine episode!" Approximately four hours later, Mickey was declaring, standing on a tabletop, while the rest of the characters and staff were gathered around said table.  
"By 'Sabine episode' you mean 'filler'," grumbled Zeb.  
"Oh yeah Zeb, like your last episode was _sooo_ interesting and rich with plot development," Sabine shot back.  
"Yes, it's time for a filler episode," came Mickey's voice from above and Zeb grinned slyly while Sabine scowled.  
"And by filler I mean filled with EMOTIONS!"  
The followup statement was met with a more confused set of faces.  
"What... do you mean?" Ezra asked tentatively.  
"Here are the scripts, you can decide where you wanna be, this time only, no questions, you'll see when you read'em!" The mascot suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to go somewhere else, which he did right after he slapped the Padawan in the face with the scripts.

Several hours later, Ezra remembered that he hadn't really looked into the scripts Mickey had given him and decided that he should start now, and while he was at it, maybe he could discuss plots with Sabine. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

But when he opened the door of Sabine's bunk, he was immediately swept away by the tide of tears that came from Kanan's and her reading through the script together.  
"Your backstory that appeared out of nowhere is so sad!" Kanan was wailing.  
"What?!" he yelled before he was carried around a corner with the current and bumped into Fenn Rau, who was also nearly drowning.  
"You thinking what I'm thinking, kid?!" the Mandalorian yelled over the sound of rushing water - that is, tears.  
"Yeah, I want no place in this episode!" the boy yelled back.

Just then, Hera came out of a room in the corridor - she shouldn't have, really - and was just closing the door behind her back when the tide hit her as well.  
"Wha-?!" she had only so much time to cry out in surprise before an equally victimized Chopper hit her head and she lost consciousness.

An oval of vision slowly began to grow larger amidst darkness, as is commonly shown in cartoons when a character is coming round.  
"What happened?" Hera groaned and tried to sit up, only to find that she was stuck under a pile of various background characters and staff members. It reminded her of the one time she got stuck under a pile of Jedi from Mickey's Clone Wars bucket.  
She didn't like it.  
"I'll tell you what happened," came the muffled voice of an employee from somewhere amidst the crushing mass. "Someone turned the episode into a tearjerker, that's what."  
"Well, I want no part of it then," growled Zeb from somewhere else in the same heap. (Was it mentioned that it was a pile of _background_ characters?)  
"Me neither," agreed Hera.  
They heard Chopper's distant beeping, which translated to "Nope, nope, noping the fuck outta here."

It was finally filming day.  
"Everyone in their positions?" called out the director.  
Immediately, Zeb, Hera, AP-5 and Chopper sprinted away from the main set as far as possible at the speed of light.  
Ezra and Fenn Rau each unfolded the collapsible deck chairs they had brought and took their positions in them, complete with popcorns.  
Then they remembered something and put on scuba diving equipment as well.  
Sabine and Kanan went to stand in the middle of the set while holding a stick each (the sticks that Zeb denied he had ever made them with Kanan, what was that Jedi even talking about).  
"I think we're set!" shouted a cameraman.  
"All right... Three, two, one, action."  
The floodgates opened.

* * *

I don't know how anyone else reacted to this episode, but it was kind of sad for me, especially because I wasn't expecting anything emotion-related. I thought it was just Sabine and Kanan stick fighting and like 'oh no you hit me, you win, the darksaber is yours.'  
And it was a bit more than that, it wasn't one of my favorite episodes and still smelled of filler but I decided to nitpick that little bit of strong emotion in it and never let go and drag it around like a hound does with a chew toy.


	65. Ezra's Complaint

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Disney owns, which happens to include Star Wars Rebels and its characters.

Background: Every. Freaking. Episode. Ever.

* * *

One day, Ezra was walking down a corridor at the Disney headquarters.  
It was quite busy, with a gaggle of animators and storyboard artists here and there, moving to and fro.  
Ezra looked at them absent-mindedly.  
Then he looked at a nearby Imperial officer.  
Then he looked at the employees less absent-mindedly.  
Then he looked at the Imperial officer again.

Ezra went upstairs to where the Ghost crew was having a nice little tea party except it was blue milk instead of tea.  
Only the Empire deserves tea.  
He looked closely at each and every member.  
Except Chopper and Zeb.  
He ignored them.  
There was AP-5 in there somewhere as well, but everyone forgot about him.  
"Oh hey Ezra, wanna join?" asked Hera.  
"Not now, thanks."  
He ran off.

Ezra met a concept artist on the third floor.  
He stared at her for a full minute before she got weirded out and walked away.

Ezra went to the next building to where the Imperials were having a nice, proper tea party with nice, proper tea.  
He tried to look closely at each and every member.  
Darth Vader calmly threw him out the door with the Force.  
He scowled and ran off again.

Ezra went back to his quarters.  
He looked at himself in the mirror.  
He knew what was wrong.  
"I know what's wrong," he said out loud.  
The mirror didn't answer because it was a normal fucking mirror unlike _some_ dude from an old Disney movie.  
"I know what's wrong, but I don't know why," repeated Ezra.  
The mirror was silent.  
Then, he and his reflection cried out at the same time,  
"Why do we Star Wars characters all look like we have dislocated shoulders?!"


	66. Clone Wars Relic

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Gisnep hurr durr

Background: Trials of the Darksaber

* * *

Mickey Mouse had the Ghost crew (+Fenn Rau) gather around him in a semi-secret meeting.  
"I have an important continuity tool to unveil to you." he announced importantly with one finger raised.  
"Be prepared... for the DARKSABER!"  
"Edgy name," commented Hera. "So where is it?"  
"HERE IT IS BITCH!" yelled the mouse as he dumped another bucket of Clone Wars over the whole crew, the darksaber hit her squarely on the head, and she was overcome with horrible deja-vu's of her former encounters with the dreaded Clone Wars bucket.  
"Nooo!" she screamed. "My bad memories are flooding back!"  
"YOU THOUGHT IT WAS OVER DIDN'T YOU!" laughed Mickey evilly. "YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE MILKING CLONE WARS! WELL GUESS WHAT YOU'RE WRONG! AND THERE IS MORE TO COME! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  
Hera screamed miserably as Mandalorian lore, Mandalorian characters, Mandalorian shitposts, Mandalorian equipment and Mandalorian memes kept tumbling out of the bucket over her head.

Somehow, the rest of her crew didn't seem to be reacting. She doubted they were even there.  
"What the fuck?" she yelled. "Am I the only sane one around here now!?"  
"Yes, yes you are," chirped the mouse mascot in an ominous high-pitched voice and then proceeded to dump more Clone Wars on her with renewed vigor.

* * *

*Clone Wars intensifies*

Also... Chapter 66. It could have been something about Order 66 but I didn't want to force anything out of my head just to fit a vague topic.


	67. Where Are They Now

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars Rebels or Disney, or any of their characters.

Background: Season 3 in general.

* * *

One day, Ahsoka woke up in a colorless void.  
"What the fuck, where am I? What am I doing with my life?"  
Darth Vader came floating by out of nowhere.  
"I see you have discovered the void trashbin of inactive characters. You are welcome to stay," he said.  
"Good and evil, power and weakness, the light and the dark... They have no effect here. We are all the same gray shadows that occasionally flit across the mindscapes of tired screenwriters." droned Tarkin, who also turned up out of nowhere and whose image seemed to flicker slightly.  
"...That was deep." commented Vader.

The strangely illuminated shape of the Emperor flitted into view, akin to the way a Force Ghost behaves.  
"I have been here for far longer than anyone else. My very existence is starting to ebb away," came the frail whisper of the Emperor from underneath his hood, like a wisp of smoke passing through the veil of eternal night.  
Tarkin turned around to look at Ahsoka. "Good to see a new face. Abandon all hopes as you can't escape this endless plateau of blankness."  
Ahsoka started to scream. "NO! I will not fade away like this! Let me out!"  
No one seemed to notice, or care.  
Then the three ominous figures started to fade away before her very eyes, becoming more transparent and foglike with each second that passed.  
Or was it minutes?  
There was no concept of time here.  
Only the void.

Ahsoka felt fear - and a dose of agoraphobia - engulf her.  
"This can't be happening! I didn't come back from Clone Wars for this!" she frantically moved and waved her limbs about, but to her dismay it did not aid her situation.  
She had no control over which direction she floated in.  
"Help, someone help!" she cried desperately.

But no one came.

* * *

Undertale reference... if you like. Or not.


	68. One day on Fanfiction dot net

It was a bright and sunny day on the website of - figuratively, that is.  
Since it's a website that has no physical form as a real life place whatsoever, one might as well state that it was a cloudy and murky day with the skies covered in smog.  
In a distant corner of a large room labeled "Star Wars Rebels", a tiny snake sat coiled at a laptop, typing away the letters with its minuscule tail.  
Well, no, actually, ah... The snake wasn't typing right now. That is, she had been for some time, but she had paused recently.  
A small group of gray faceless beings with various drawings taped across their faces sat patiently, waiting for the snake to continue.  
However, the snake didn't show any signs of resuming anytime soon. She was currently talking to another group of faceless beings with drawings taped on their faces, with a sketchbook in front of her. She drew something from time to time and the gray people would give her snacks in return. Snacks like banana milk and potato chips and cabbages.

But then, a large creature walked through the ocean that was the writing community, parting the crowd like Moses did to the Red Sea.  
This creature was large, black and had nothing on its face whatsoever.  
And it walked straight towards the little snake.  
"Who are you?" the snake hissed (not that she held any menace or threat - all she can do is hiss), dark circles under her eyes for some reason.  
"I am your conscience," the creature rumbled. It gestured around to the small group of gray beings that had been there, sitting around the snake, for ages.  
There was a small pile of papers next to them that they'd finished reading a long time ago.  
"Look at your readers," the large creature continued to speak in its thunderlike voice, whilst the snake stared at it with half-closed eyes, because she was an illogical snake who ignored the laws of the animal kingdom.  
"They've been waiting patiently for you to upload a new chapter ever since you wrote the very start of your little series and uploaded it in this chaotic society. And they rejoiced every time you created something new. At first you were true to your many promises, but now you've been getting lazier and lazier. You have kept them in waiting for nearly a month!" it finished with a rather ferocious accent.

"What?" the snake flinched. She looked at the calendar on her laptop. It was true!  
It had been a month and she had not written a single chapter.  
Well, actually she had a few chapter in store, but they were full of sentences like 'water is edible because you can drink it' and unfunny gibberish that she decided to give up on it for a bit.  
"Tell them the truth behind your schemes and lies!" boomed Conscience.  
"Uhh, look, that's a bit black-and-white there mate, I don't even know what I'm doing with my life anymore, let alone what's true and what's false," the snake murmured sluggishly.  
"Oh," said Conscience and suddenly disappeared into smoke because of terrible writing.

"Well, that was weird," thought the snake to herself, "but my conscience has got a point. I told my readers that I would never give up on this fic unless the show ended. Dave Filoni's making a fourth season; I should get to work too. Season 3 still has stuff in it that I could make fun of."  
She thought hard.  
"Oh yeah," she resumed monologueing at long last, "I'll make fun of how Disney finally managed to make a Star Wars character sing."  
"Don't you dare!" came Mickey Mouse's distant howl from outside the room, but he was so far away and the snake was out of his reach, thus he could not stop her from nitpicking on every single thing he did under the title of fan fiction.  
Alas, poor Mickey.

* * *

So yeah, this was a bit of a meta chapter...

I have several things to tell you guys.

1\. Fanfic cover, you might not see it on mobile, but yes it's a humorous doodle of Tua going 'wtf' and yes I drew it.

2\. The reason I stopped - well, paused - writing.  
As you might have gathered from the above story, I'm doing commissions on DeviantArt - not yet, per se, but I'm preparing. Currently I'm taking requests and oh boy are there a lot of requests. Not that people actually pay me with banana milk. I've been busy trying to keep up with life, studying, drawing my art and someone else's requests, keeping up with shows, etc. So, sorry about that.

3\. As you may have guessed also, the next chapter is going to be a short one about AP-5 singing. That scene quite hit me in the... I don't know where, but not in the feels, that's for sure.

4\. The usual disclaimer, only it's at the end.  
The little snake is me (obviously) and I own her (as I won myself), I don't own you lot or the guys requesting art to me (the gray people), I own my Conscience but don't own Mickey Mouse or or Star Wars Rebels. I own a laptop but don't have any banana milk or potato chips, only cabbages. (SLICED. RAW. CABBAGES. MY DAD MAKES ME EAT THEM.)


	69. Mickey's Scheme

Background: Season 3, episode 19 "Double Agent Droid"

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Mickey Mouse or Star Wars Rebels.

I don't really know what the staff thought about the Double Agent Droid episode.

* * *

Mickey Mouse had been planning this for a long time.

A VERY long, long time, if you will.  
There were some... inconveniences along the way.  
He was faced with many difficulties.  
But now, the end was nigh.  
His goal was being achieved at last.  
Mickey decided to take a moment to reminisce and leaned back in his disproportionately tall chair, alone in his secret room.

*cue flashback to some decades ago, complete with retro reel sound effect*

The year was 1977.  
Everything was business as usual for Mickey, shooting some real-life films, making some hand-animated ones...  
Then one fateful day, he decided to go to the cinema to see what was hot besides the ones from his franchise.  
And oh lord, oh lord, history could have gone a dozen different ways had he picked some other movie but this one.  
But the large, yellow letters were too intriguing to pass by.  
So he watched it...

The moment "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..." appeared on the pitch-black screen, Mickey's life changed completely.

Well, no, it didn't change much, but from that moment on one thought continuously pestered his mind, festered, growing and growing, bugging him for years to come:  
"This needs a song in it."  
Not those silly 'Cantina Band' or 'Imperial March' instrumentals, no, but a real song.  
A song with voices in it. Real voices. With real lyrics.  
Eventually the idea engulfed the whole of his big ratty brain, and he decided to construct a concrete plan and put it to action.

Mickey would spend hours in his villainous lab, brainstorming villainous ideas - yes he is a villain why wouldn't you have noticed by now - and no one, not even his closest sidekicks Donald Duck and Goofy, knew exactly what he was up to.  
They only heard passing parts of unrecognizable mumbled rants - but, if one, and only one, of the things they overheard were clearly embedded in their memories, it was this;  
A snicker, with enough malice in it to give any Disney villain a run for their money, followed by the words ""oh yes, I will put a song in Star Wars, oh yes I will..."

In 2012, Disney bought Lucasarts.

In 2014, a show called Star Wars Rebels was released on Disney XD.  
(It's not Disney laughing in a chat, by the way.)  
The show was about a group of rebels who fought against the Empire between the events of Episodes III and IV. It was fairly well-written and well-animated.

In March 2016, the show had gained a respectable audience and was due for its nineteenth episode of the third season, which was drawing to a close.  
Animators, concept artists and support staff were bustling about the corridors and rooms of the Disney HQ, busy arguing about this or discussing that...  
In fact, Mickey could hear the hustle-bustle outside his room right now.

*cue coming back to present effect*

He was particularly happy about this episode, but it wasn't because of how close the season finale was or how perfectly filler-ish it was, like everybody else thought.  
No, it was because his lifetime goal had been achieved.  
Finally.  
After all this time.

A Star Wars character was going to sing.

AP-5's desperate cries of "No, you can't do this to the franchise, this is illogical!" from last night still rang in his ears as a slow grin spread across Mickey's face.  
 _Oh, you poor droid,_ he thought. _Don't you know that sometimes,_

 _you have to sacrifice for the greater good?_

It was only a moment before the grin evolved into a maniacal, high-pitched laughter that reverberated across the dimly lit chamber.


	70. Tua's Rant

Background: Season 1 "Call to Action", "The Siege of Lothal" then "Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope"

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney or Star Wars or Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters nor am I the one who invented the word "or".

* * *

Tarkin arrived in his shuttle to nitpick.  
"Are you fucking kidding me," Tua told him.

"Do I look like I'm enjoying a _nice_ fucking _vacation_ on _Scarif_ because _surprise,_ I'm not, you DICK, do you think I _enjoy_ this fucking _job_ because _guess what bitch_ , no I'm not, I haven't slept for two fucking weeks or was it four, when was the last time I slept, I can't remember, oh right and it's because of YOU, do I look like I have time for your BULLSHIT, I have a _planet_ to manage and if you talk shit to me about not trying hard enough again I _swear,_ I have zero fucks to give about your sith lordiness, I SWEAR I'LL _RIP YOUR FUCKING ROBOT THROAT OUT_ , NOW GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU MELODRAMATIC PIECE OF ROBO-SHIT"

Vader couldn't say anything at first.  
It was a moment before he mumbled "okay," and walked straight back out.

* * *

Tarkin stood in front of his desk, mulling over his thoughts.  
There were three knocks at his door.  
"Come in," he called, and Agent Kallus calmly walked in to report that Minister Tua had been "taken care of".  
After making some more minor reports - insubordinate citizens, Imperial Academy doing well, the usual things - the agent left, and Tarkin was once again left alone with only his thoughts to keep him company.  
Or was he?

He was violently startled out of his trancelike stance by a sudden and rather loud "WOW, I can't be-LIEVE you just did that."  
"Oh, wait, yes I can, because you're a dick and I know it."  
The Grand Moff spun around trying his best to hold his inquisitive glare and trying harder to not show a sign of surprise when he found none other than Maketh Tua standing behind him.  
"Rather transparent you seem, or has the Agent lied to me?" he managed to comment dryly.  
"No shit," said Tua, "Thanks to you and your stupid facial haired agent I'm now a ghost, so GEE, thanks for the bomb you piece of shit."

And because the author was too lazy to give Tarkin a clever reaction, he was stuck with her ghost trailing around him and whispering things like "what is wrong with you" and "are you shitting me" for the rest of his reign.

And then, when the Rebels were victorious, when the Death Star was exploding, and he was standing among the flames and rumbles and officers screaming and troopers running left and right, a millisecond before his life erupted into fireworks with a million other lives, the last thing he saw was the Minister's smug face.

* * *

There are shitty doodles that go with this chapter at my DeviantArt (get rid of the spaces or just search LittleSnaketail on DeviantArt and dig through the gallery):  
tinyurl. (com/) lvsjoso  
tinyurl. (com/) my95qyf

Cover art also from them.

I profusely apologize for not updating for such a long time. This fanfiction is over a year old now and I wasn't even there for the anniversary!


	71. The Droid

Background: Season 3 episode 14, "Warhead" EXD-9  
Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters.

Note: Sorry for the long hiatus. The show's on hiatus and so am I...  
I will try to write some things though

* * *

So yeah, one time, Ezra, Hera and the rest of the crew flew off to an important mission, but the very VERY crucial rebel base had to be protected by someone because all the rebel soldiers were either coming along with them or on vacation.  
"Let's leave it to Zeb," suggested Kanan.  
"What an inSIGHTful piece of advice Kanan," agreed Hera, pun definitely not intended. "He DESERVES some screen time."  
"And let's leave the droids with him because look, they're closer than anyone could ever be!" Ezra concurred, pointing to Zeb who was, at the moment, trying to rip AP-5's head off.  
"Beautiful idea!" they chanted and flew off on their spaceship.

As soon as the ship zoomed out of sight, a lifepod-like object crashed from the skies.  
It had a humongous Imperial logo stamped across it in the brightest shade of red possible.  
"Ooh, what is this?" said Zeb. "A meiloorun? We're running low on meilooruns."  
"Are you joking, this is clearly an Imperial spacecraft, we should destroy it or escape this area before anything happens," drawled AP-5, but this comment fell on deaf ears.

Before Zeb could actually do anything else, though, the pod clanged open and a humanoid droid walked out.  
The droid had "IMPERIAL SPY" stamped across his forehead.  
When the Lasat tried to approach it, AP-5 called out, "Don't! He has 'imperial spy' inscribed on him in big letters!"  
"Big letters? What are you talking about? AP-5, you're so weird." scoffed Zeb. "Let's accompany this perfectly friendly and innocent droid into the middle of our secret base!"  
 _Oh no,_ Chopper whirred.

"Greetings, organic scum," said the new droid, "I am here to extract all your disgusting Rebel secrets for the glory of my masters and murder you all."  
"Oh my stars, he said hello!" guffawed Zeb. "What a nice and kindly greeting!"  
"He literally threatened your life." AP-5 stated blandly.  
"What the heck are you talking about?! You need to get your sound receptors fixed, you!" said Zeb, his yellow eyes bulging in opposite directions.

Later, Zeb found the Small Friendly Innocent Droid trying to electrocute Chopper into next Tuesday.  
"You go, little buddy! We can be best chums now!" he called out as Chopper let out a bloodcurdling screech of droid-pain.  
AP-5 was nowhere to be seen. It seemed that he had phased through thin air because of the lack of attention.

The next time Zeb saw the Small Friendly Innocent Droid, it was trying to set fire on the Rebels' food supplies.  
"Eh, driods will be driods," muttered Zeb nonchalantly.  
BUT THEN  
There was a creaking sound!  
Followed by lots more creaking sounds!  
Robotic sounds!  
KA-CHUNK!  
CRACK!  
WHIRL!  
The Small Friendly Innocent Droid was now a Big Scary Not Innocent Droid!

"OH NO!" screamed Zeb.  
Then the Big Scary Not Innocent Droid zapped him and he died so hard he went into hiatus.  
In Star Wars heaven, he met AP-5 and Chopper.  
"I told you so," said AP-5.

Down in the mortal world, the Big Scary Not Innocent Droid was wreaking havoc on the Rebel base.  
When the Ghost crew came back from their Very Important Mission, they were met with the sight of a single droid sitting in the midst of a gargantuan inferno, eyes staring straight ahead and right into their souls.  
They only had time to scream with their eyes popping out - Kanan's eyes bulged so hard that he could see again - and then were blasted into hiatus with the rest of the team.

The droid, now having dubbed itself the Hiatus-Bringer, went back to his shuttle pod thingy, went back to the Stardestroyer he was deployed from, and shot the first officer that greeted him with a "Look, this one brought back datAAAAAGH" into Hiatus.  
The Hiatus-Bringer stormed through the ship, zapping every stormtrooper, officer and droid that dared stand in his way.  
The Unstoppable Hiatus-Bringer was unstoppable.  
That is, until he went up to the very high Command Deck and was STOPPED BY GRAND ADMIRAL THRAWN!

"What are you doing?! We still have 8 more episodes to get through before the season ends!" scolded Thrawn.  
"Oh shit," said the driod. "My bad."  
Then it went to un-zap everyone and everything was fine once again.

The end.

* * *

This got progressively more and more insane as my brain got hazier and hazier.

I don't even know.


	72. Thrawn's Journal - Part 1

Background: Season 3 "Zero Hour" and the hiatus that followed

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney or Star Wars or Star Wars Rebels or any of its characters nor am I the one who invented the word "or".

Note: This is a peek into Thrawn's mind and daily life as he slowly descends into madness after the encounter on Atollon. I could have actually made this like a separate daily update fanfic, but I didn't think of it back then and now it's too late, and I probably wouldn't have kept it up anyway XD

Additional note: I tried, but it's probably still out of character.

* * *

 _3275 LY (Lothal Year), March 26th_

Yesterday, I led my fleet to Atollon to strike the Rebels with Governor Pryce and Admiral Konstantine.  
After much research, I had finally gained definite proof of the planet's location, enabling us to bring down the Imperial fist upon the pests.  
I will not write down any of the details regarding the battle (that reminds me, I forgot to write a journal entry yesterday, dammit! Thrawn, you made a New Year Promise and it was to keep a journal EVERY DAY. Not even four months in and you've broken it. Good job.)-

The thing that I intend to describe, instead, is a rather curious incident that took place after I led my troops down onto the planet's surface.  
We had cornered a small group of rebels including two Jedi; all possible scenarios I could think of were favorable to the Empire.  
Then the unexpected happened.  
I do hate when the unexpected happens.

A storm stirred up, with no moisture or water, on such a dry planet - but the storm was there, summoning lightning, attempting to strike down Imperial and Rebel forces alike - it was soon visible that a great being was in the middle of the storm, and more than likely its cause.  
(What the actual Jedi devilry was that?!)  
Long story short, the Rebels escaped, I told my men to shoot down the creature and they succeeded.  
The thing came down from the sky in a giant ball of flame.  
What I saw when I found the place it had crashed, I saw a beast unlike any I have seen before.

"What manner of creature are you?" I asked.  
"One beyond your power to destroy." it answered - it _spoke_.  
"It would not seem so," I retorted, taking out my blaster pistol; for in my opinion, he was lying quite mundanely on the ground at the moment.  
But the beast went on;  
"You cannot see," it said. "But I can."  
It seems that curiosity got the better of me, for I asked what he saw.  
"I see your defeat, like many arms surrounding you in a cold embrace."  
At this, I pulled the trigger.

The blast only hit the empty ground, for the creature disappeared in the blink of an eye.  
(Again with the Jedi devilry!)

No more harm came to us and we left the planet's surface safely.  
However, it would be untruthful to state that we weren't unnerved by the whole incident - the giant creature, the way it had disappeared into thin air despite all laws of science, the way his laughs echoed around me and my men like that of a ghost, and one that made me most uncomfortable: his last words.

"I see your defeat, like many arms surrounding you in a cold embrace."  
I have been threatened before, but this is... different.  
The words hang over me, echo in my brain like a great festering raincloud; in fact, the way it refuses to leave my head is almost unnatural.

Hopefully my mind will be clear of this nuisance come tomorrow.

* * *

 _3275 LY, March 27th_

Ah, so much for hoping, then.  
The sentence still resides within - in fact, it refuses to budge.  
I cannot think straight.  
The Emperor was, as happy as he was with the destruction of the Atollon base, quite upset with misdeeds of certain men in charge. But it seems that he has more important things at mind, for he did nothing to punish me or my colleagues, except disable the coffee machine at the cafeteria.  
Conveniently, I just remembered that I have an emergency meeting at 2 a.m.

Perhaps the disabling of the coffee machine was more severe a punishment than I initially thought.

* * *

 _3275 LY, March 30th_

How irritating!  
I have tried everything in my knowledge.  
I meditated.  
I tried every mind exercise and every physical exercise, from those I have thorough knowledge of, to those I have only remotely heard of, to no avail.

The sentence is still there, ringing in my head, taunting.  
The meaning I assume it conveys is just as disturbing as it is affecting my mind and body.  
I attempted to make subtle inquiries while conversing with the Governor, but she completely failed to notice my suggestions.  
It does not seem that anyone else is suffering the same condition.

If this continues on, I shall have to seek other ways to cure this symptom, perhaps even professional help.

* * *

 _3275 LY, April 1st_

Thank goodness, the words are finally gone! I am free!

...Or so I wish.

Happy April Fools, me.

* * *

 _3275 LY, April 5th_

I just looked at my former entries for the first time in more than a week.  
Apparently it is hard, even for me, to put back together a habit that is broken.  
"Every day" my Imperial a- Never mind.

* * *

 _3275 LY, April 7th_

The beast's words have not left my brain for thirteen days now.  
Early this morning, I finally found the resolve to find and consult a psychiatrist...  
Curiously enough, even though I sat through a dozen scans, tests and seemingly unrelated quizzes, they could not find anything abnormal from my psychology, perhaps apart from my rather superior intelligence, if I do say so myself.  
But that does not matter.  
The sentence is still here and it gives me pain.

* * *

 _3275 LY, April 12th_

The last few days have been hectic.  
I do not know what got into me. I feel as if I have not slept for four days. Maybe I indeed didn't.  
Last night, Governor Pryce left our tactical meeting to get us some tea, only to return and find me aiming my blaster at the main desk.  
I could have sworn I saw a suspicious shadow underneath; however, the Governor later proved to me that it was only a large ball of dust.  
How embarrassing.

On a separate note, I must remember to have the trooper in charge of cleaning that room face his consequences.

* * *

 _3275 LY, April 14th_

I could not sleep last night, for I had developed a terrible headache. I have not had one in more than three decades, and it is the first case in which I cannot pinpoint the source of the pain.

* * *

 _3275 LY, April 15th_

Maker, please let these cursed words leave my brain!


	73. Note

In case anyone is still interested in this story: I actually had Part 2 of Thrawn's Journal in the works, but I got busy and forgot to sign in to for a very long time.

Now, too much time has passed and the site deleted all my documents - I do not have a backup and am too lazy to write it all over again.

It wasn't particularly funny or well written anyway... Let's just assume the hiatus did take hold of his sanity but he recovered eventually.

Instead, I hear Rebels Season 4 is coming in a few days. So I will watch the new episodes as soon as I can after they come out, and then hopefully I can write some new stuff.

Thanks for reading, love you all.


End file.
